Second Chances
by Rightytighty
Summary: Lester's outgoing personality hides a past hurt that he has no desire to revisit. Hector is finally putting his own demons to rest and moving on. What will it take for Rangeman's Finest to get their very own Happily Ever After? Established Ranger/Steph story, OCs introduced.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I'm generally a lurker, but I've had this story in mind for a while - this is my first post. I love the Merry Men that FanFiction has created (love to JE but they are an underutilized resource in her novels)so I'm posting a story that centers mainly around Lester and Hector, and an OC. The first chapter has almost zero dialog, but I hope that it will help set the stage for the rest of the story. I'm home with two little girls all summer, so please be patient with replies to reviews - I have finite snippets of free time and I plan to use that to mostly update the story. And cyber hugs to my generous Beta, snapesgirl21 (please read her stories if you haven't already).**

**All characters, fictional places and cyber Tastykakes belong to Janet Evanovich; she just lets me play with them.**

_***I re-uploaded this chapter on 7/31 because the page breaks didn't show the first time. Content is the same. I couldn't live with it anymore.**_

Hector was in love.

It was known but not acknowledged that the handsome, fearsome techie was gay. It didn't distinguish him, or define him, amongst his Rangeman brothers, and that was how he preferred it. His anonymity, his ability to invoke a certain...aversion to being in his mental crosshairs had always served him well, but now all that was going to have to change.

He'd met a man, a wonderfully witty and winsome guy while working out of Rangeman's NYC office. Vaughn McGovern was, of all things, a musician. More specifically, he was a lyricist and composer in the musical theater scene. Vaughn was responsible for several recent Broadway song hits and, after receiving the accolades and subsequently the financial status he'd never before contemplated having, decided a bigger, nicer apartment was long overdue. He found cozy rehabbed 2-bedroom apartment in Manhattan's Hell's Kitchen neighborhood, and was very satisfied with his 'buzz a resident for entry' security system until his neighbor's apartment was robbed after only 2 weeks at his new home. He got a referral for a security company called Rangeman from a friend, and blessedly, Hector accompanied a new employee on the install.

Their attraction was instant, their flirty banter (subtle from Hector, sincere from Vaughn) unending, and a very real and genuine relationship developed faster than either of them expected. To borrow a cliché, they had fallen head over heels in love.

This newfound love was the reason Hector's closed-off, empirical demeanor was going to have to change. Not only was Vaughn a generally happy, chipper person who interacted well with a lot of colorful people, he had a very beloved twin sister, Giana. They were close in a way that implied that regardless of Vaughn's assurances to the contrary, Giana's opinion and approval of Hector would almost certainly be an important determining factor in how his future with Vaughn played out.

And so with this in mind, Hector steeled himself for this introductory lunch Vaughn arranged for the three of them. Hector was not military, but the men he worked around every day were and he found himself adopting their 'Hope For The Best, Prepare For The Worst' approach to dealing with problems. He hoped this woman would see past his old gang tattoos, beyond the teardrops inked onto his cheek, and around the menacing demeanor he sometimes emanated and see just how authentic his feelings for her brother were. Hector knew a little about 'Gia' from Vaughn; she was 25, had just completed a 7 year course in 6 years to become a physical therapist, and was actively searching for a job working with veterans. The photograph he had of her hung framed on his wall and showed a mass of long, unruly auburn waves framing a heart-shaped face with blue eyes so dark they appeared violet, set inside thick lashes. Her lips were full and deep in color, and the smile looked like it was a permanent fixture. She was, according to her brother, 'fun and supportive and very loving'. Hector had precious little fun or love in his life growing up, and the only support he'd ever felt was in recent years from his coworkers, so he was doubly anxious about this lunch. Still, Hector was not one to back down from any threat, real or perceived, so he locked down his trepidation and counted down the days to his meal with Giana McGovern.

* * *

Lester was concerned.

Lester Santos thoroughly enjoyed his reputation as Rangeman's prankster, and ever since Stephanie and Ranger finally decided to quit the years of back-and-forth and elope a few months ago, the atmosphere at Rangeman was ripe for fun and games. With Steph working at Rangeman full time now doing searches, distractions, and client meetings, Les even had a willing partner in crime AND the bonus of probably not getting killed by Ranger when they were inevitably sniffed out. His latest prank even got a smile from Tank - Tank! - So all in all, Lester was a contented guy.

He wasn't a vapid, self-centered man, however, and it had come to his attention that Hector seemed distracted lately. Not in the way he had initially been distracted - the soft smiles and happy (for Hec) attitude had been because Hector had a man in his life. THAT sort of distracted was welcomed and silently celebrated by the Core Team; their brother had not had an easy start in life and they were glad to see him content. No, THIS distracted left Hector with a wrinkled brow and an air of being troubled at times. Lester worried that the new boyfriend was putting Hector through the paces, but his sources in the city told him that Vaughn was as happy as ever, hard at work with a new writing partner (female) and making plenty of time for phone calls and 'off-site meetings' to rendezvous in Newark with a certain Hispanic Rangeman. Determined as always to see his friends happy, Lester set about covertly uncovering the reason behind Hector's sudden distress.

Les approached his partner and best friend, Bobby Brown, with his concerns, and they decided to include Stephanie. If anyone could get information out of close-mouthed Hector, it was their Bomber. Though she mostly worked in the building now, the physical and defensive training she agreed to ensured she was qualified for field work, and she always partnered with Hector.

Steph, too, had noticed Hector's newfound glow and was thrilled that her partner and friend found happiness. Hec hadn't disclosed much about Vaughn to her, and her usually curious nature abated because she didn't want Hector to feel pressured to reveal anything. So when Lester and Bobby approached her to share their concern, she agreed to feel Hector out...after teasing them for their gossiping.

It was because of this turn of events that Steph found out, from a casual discussion on a Friday night stakeout with Hector, that he was meeting Vaughn's sister the following Tuesday. The tense silence that followed his admission spoke volumes to Stephanie, whose experience with tense silence in her parent's home was unmatched. She ascertained that Hec was either anxious about the sister causing discord in his relationship or of her opinion of him; either scenario made her heart ache for her silent friend, whom she had come to regard as much more than the intimidating ex-gang banger he was known as.

And this was how Stephanie Plum-Mañoso came to find herself parked in a Rangeman surveillance vehicle with Les and Bobby at lunchtime on Tuesday. They arrived at Pino's early and bribed their usual waitress (who luckily sported a big crush on Bobby) to plant a wireless transmitter wherever Hector was seated. Their loosely-constructed plan was to eaves drop and swoop in if things went south with either an interruption to say hello (Stephanie's idea) or a small charge explosive planted carefully in the dumpster out back (Lester's idea). Now, parked in the alley half a block down from Pino's, Stephanie again wondered how she let herself get roped into doing this. No matter now, since the transmitter crackled to life and they heard Hector's dulcet tone ordering water for three.

After a few silent moments peppered with the sound of glasses clinking and muted diners chattering, they heard a chair scrape close to the bug and a deep male baritone greet Hector affectionately, and then, a woman's voice.

It wasn't what she said, or her tone, but something almost primal shot down Lester Santos's spine the moment he heard Giana McGovern greet Hector with a happy, "It's so good to finally meet you, Hector!". A zing, a small flutter in his stomach, and the moment passed...but not the memory of it. That, Les would mull over for quite some time.

* * *

Giana was ecstatic.

After six long, arduous years of schooling at an accelerated rate, she was finally finished, with a 3.8 GPA, no less. She was ready to move forward, ready to work in her chosen profession. Her father had been an Army veteran who required physical therapy after being injured overseas, and she'd seen first hand the need for quality PTs at the Veteran's Hospital. Now, with her brother living and working in Manhattan, their mother tucked away in her cozy little beach front home only 5 hours away in Virginia Beach, and the Newark Veteran's hospital hiring new Physical Therapists to work in their expanded Rehabilitation wing, she would finally be able to see more of her family and spend some of the money that had been growing in her investment portfolio on a home. The only thing missing was her youngest brother, Richard, but he was enlisted and stationed overseas and there was little to be done about that.

And today, finally getting to meet the man who had so thoroughly captured her brother's affections...it was all just too perfect. Vaughn had talked of little else since Hector came into his life, but he'd been hesitant to introduce him. When she pressed him, he first denied that he was keeping Hector from her; he argued he'd never introduced boyfriends before, so this was his normal. Giana's mind drifted back to the conversation they'd had...

"I'd really like to meet him, V. You talk about him like...well, like he's IT for you; that's a big deal!"

Vaughn had scrubbed his slender fingers through his thick, Irish black hair and sighed. He had cornflower blue eyes, lashes for days, and lips made for kissing. His medium frame was nicely toned and at 25 he'd dated his fair share of men. But Hector...

"Here's the thing, Gia - I really, really like Hector. A lot. He's got this smile...and he's smart, so smart. He manages the IT side of 4 security company locations, with no formal training! And he's so thoughtful..."

Giana prompted him along, "...but...?"

Vaughn exhaled and, in a thin strained voice, said, "But, he's a former gang member, and a fairly prolific one at that. He didn't graduate high school. He leads a dangerous life. I just...I worry... I worry that he's going to see how I live, see you and mom, and decide I'm too 'cookie cutter' and take off."

Of all the things he could have said, that was the LAST thing Giana expected. A peal of laughter escaped her mouth before she could stop it, and she smiled at her brother's reproachful glare. "V, you're a white Broadway musician from Virginia. There's not a lot of mystery as to what your past entails. I'm sure your roots are about as important to Hector as his are to you."

Vaughn had perked up noticeably after that, and relented when she asked again to meet his boyfriend.

So here she sat in a dive Italian restaurant, watching her brother and his man sneak loving glances at each other while they exchanged pleasantries. She was thrilled to see her brother so happy and, from a woman who appreciated a good-looking man, found Hector to be very handsome and attentive - two huge pluses in any girl's book.

Just as they were finishing their pizza, Hector's attention shifted to something behind her. Giana swiveled in her seat just as Hector scowled at whoever had just walked into the restaurant, and her eyes widened slightly at the sight before her.


	2. Chapter 2

Stephanie was bored.

The recon mission, while initially having appealed to her curious nature, quickly became just another surveillance gig. The Three Bromigos, as Bobby jokingly dubbed them, listened intently to the first few moments after the meeting. Giana seemed authentically interested in getting to know Hector, and Steph's misgivings about the meeting were quickly laid to rest. Simply put, the girl seemed lovely. She asked non-intrusive questions and happily shared some nonsensical information with Hec; a perfect first meeting flow of conversation. Bobby also tired of eavesdropping after a few minutes and was currently going over an updated checklist for medical supplies for each Rangeman vehicle. Lester, however...he remained perfectly silent and still, focused on the conversation.

Just as she was about to suggest they abandon their endeavor, her cell phone rang. Seeing Ranger's name appear on the caller I.D., she yipped in distress; their little field trip wasn't exactly sanctioned. Shushing the boys ("Bromigos!" was Bobby's hissed correction), she answered just before her phone went to voicemail.

"Hey, Ranger, what's up?"

"Babe. Your tracker shows you sitting near Pino's."

"Oh yeah? Huh. Wait...why are you tracking me?" Bobby and Lester shared a startled glance; if Ranger caught them tailing Hector to spy on his date, with Steph in tow, using Rangeman resources, they'd be lucky to see daylight inside of a month. Monitor duty was Ranger's current favorite punishment.

"Got a call that a skip was spotted going in to pick up lunch. You're the closest car. Can you go in and just observe? I don't want you trying to approach him without backup."

Stephanie nervously twirled her hair, then forced herself to stop. She could usually lie like a rug; this should be a cake walk. "Ah, actually, Les and Bobby are with me. We got take-out to avoid a Morelli run-in and we're eating in the car." Ranger wouldn't be happy about the junk food OR eating in the car, but if he thought it was to avoid a scene with his wife's ex...they could probably avoid a session on the mats with the Boss.

Steph was met with a few brief seconds of silence, then, "Put Santos on the phone." She passed the phone to Les while smiling reassuringly at him. She was fairly certain they'd all live to snoop another day. After a few terse, "Yes, sir." responses from Les, he hung up and exhaled. "Man, Beautiful, I thought for sure he'd lighten up after he married you. Are you sure you're doing it right?"

After he playfully dodged two (admittedly deserved) slaps, he clapped his hands together and said, "Here's the plan - since I'm already listed as an apprehension agent on the paperwork, we go in and grab Elmer Green. That's our skip; he's out on bail for stealing TVs from an electronics store. This is his 3rd go-'round, the bond is high so Rangeman got him. Chances are he's unarmed. However, chances are high he's not going to want to go with us, so we're going to need a distraction while Bobby and I cuff him. You up for it, Beautiful?"

Stephanie nodded in agreement and they quickly hatched a plan.

A few minutes later, she strolled into Pino's and leaned against the counter next to a very nervous, very twitchy Elmer Green. She pretended to peruse the menu, then leaned across Elmer to ask what he'd recommend. As he was leering at Steph's cleavage, Bobby stepped quietly through the door and buzzed poor unsuspecting Elmer with the stun gun, quickly cuffing him before they drew too much attention.

Les was there to help Bobby load Mr. Green into the waiting Rangeman SUV just as Ranger pulled up outside, followed by a second SUV. He stepped out of his latest black Porsche and nodded at the guys, then stalked towards Steph with the barely-there smile she adored. "Proud of you, Babe." He stated before brushing his lips across hers. "Let's go inside so I can thank my snitch."

Stephanie felt her stomach plunge; if Ranger found out they hadn't gotten takeout, he'd know she fibbed about the reason why they'd been parked near Pino's. And to compound her anxiety, if Hector spotted her he was going to think she was spying on him...which she guessed was technically true, but she only agreed because Les assured her Hector would never find out. Damn Lester! Damn Pino's! Damn Ranger's need to keep his snitches happy!

Still, she didn't see an immediate way around it so she decided to cross her fingers and hope for the best. Bobby and Les, having sent Green to the cop shop with Ram and Vince, fell in behind her. She felt slightly comforted in the knowledge that Ranger would kill them before her so she might just make it to the Porsche before he caught her.

As they stepped through Pino's front door for the second...err, third, yeah, third time that day, the Three Bromigos silently agreed to keep their recon secret. That lasted for all of 5 seconds until Steph's stomach erupted in a growl so loud it was heard at the farthest table, which just happened to be where Hector was having lunch with Vaughn and Giana.

* * *

Hector had been studiously ignoring the procession of his coworkers coming and going so he could focus on his company. He was immensely relieved to find that Vaughn's sister was, in fact, just as genuine and nice as he'd described her. She was quick-witted and funny, and her intelligence was apparent in the content of their conversation. She was markedly impressed with his position at Rangeman and asked pointed questions, showing her interest was real and not just polite. So it with no little annoyance that he was startled enough by the familiar sound of his partner's stomach making itself known to look behind his lunch companion's faces.

Giana and Vaughn both turned as well and were met by the sight of Les, Bobby, and Stephanie, identical looks of surprise on their faces, rooted to their spots by the door. Ranger, his business conducted, strode across the restaurant, nodding cordially at Hector's table before taking Steph's arm and saying, "I'll take her back to Haywood." Bobby shot a sympathetic look at Bomber's panicked expression as she was escorted out the door and turned to gather his partner. He was met with Lester's retreating form as he headed towards Hector's table. Bobby's brow furrowed; what was Les up to? They'd ascertained that Hector was holding his own quite well, so he wasn't sure why his partner was going over to interrupt their lunch. With a sigh, Bobby followed Les over to Hector's table.

When Lester saw Ranger take Stephanie by the elbow, his curiosity to see what The Voice looked like proved too great a temptation to pass up. He slid silently toward the back of the restaurant where the Merry Men (Steph's nickname was infiltrating his mind, he mused) always sat. As he approached, his focus was on the woman; the echo of the jolt he felt when he heard her speak was mildly irritating, like a melody he knew but couldn't place. She raised her eyes to his and he saw them widen slightly, appreciatively. It was the reaction he expected from most women. At just over six feet tall with his muted Cuban coloring and perfect white teeth, moss-colored eyes and dimples he flashed at will, Lester Santos was never short of women willing to keep him company.

"Hector! How goes it, _hermano_? Didn't expect to see you here...who's your friend?" Les asked, his eyes focused on the girl. 'Not bad', he thought, 'pretty hot, good tits, nice smile, and the red hair is major'. Les flashed his sexy smile, eyes on Red's as he closed the gap between them.

"You get your skip?" Hector's voice held no trace of welcome or invitation. The message was clear: move on.

Bobby walked into the foray before blood was drawn and tried to mitigate. "Hec, man, good to see you; Les, we need to finish the paperwork on Green."

Lester's eyes hadn't shifted from Red the entire time. He knew he was stepping over the carefully drawn line Hector was laying, but dammit, the buzz _bugged_ him. He needed to work it out before it made him think of...well, things best left forgotten. "Hi there, Gorgeous! Lester Santos, I work with Hector. And you are?" And like a well scripted play, Les held out his hand and flashed the teeth, the dimples, the eyes...this was the part that generally Sealed The Deal with the women he later took home. They found it irresistible, and Les knew it.

Giana had an amused smile tipping the corners of her mouth up as she grasped Lester's proffered hand. He half expected another zing, and was relieved - and oddly disappointed - that there was nothing extra in the handshake.

"Giana. I'm Vaughn's sister." Hmmm, interesting. The Seal The Deal Smile usually elicited at least a flirty giggle. She was polite, friendly even, but that was all. She turned to Bobby and smiled in welcome so he hurriedly introduced himself to both Giana and Vaughn, then added "C'mon, Santos, we've gotta roll."

Vaughn stood and said, "We'll walk you out, we were just leaving as well."

Lester angled himself next to Giana and asked, "So, what do you do?" He was still curious about her and hey, Les was never one to pass up the opportunity to talk to a pretty girl.

"Female impersonator," she dead panned. Les felt his jaw drop and he froze mid-stride for a quick second before Vaughn's bark of laughter snapped him out of it.

"This is why I don't take you out in public!" He teased. She smiled at her brother and winked at Hector as they reached their cars. "Gia's a Physical Therapist. She's going through the application process for the new rehab center at the Veteran's hospital off Quakerbridge Road." Vaughn explained with a note of pride in his voice.

Bobby let out a low whistle. "That's impressive; the new center is state-of-the-art and they're vetting all the new hires pretty thoroughly." He quickly explained that he was the medic at Rangeman and the center was the main topic of conversation in the medical community right now.

She smiled and rolled one shoulder noncommittally. "I'm not hired yet, but it's looking promising. In fact..." She turned to Hector, "I should hear something definite by next week. Would you mind giving me the nickel tour some time? I'd like to know which areas to avoid living in if I get the job."

Hector nodded in agreement and Gia stepped forward to hug her brother goodbye. "So you'll be back at your place tomorrow, yes?" She asked. Vaughn flushed slightly and said, "Yeah, I'll leave Trenton around 2. We need to do some shopping for you." She made a sour face, then stepped forward and put her arms around Hector. The surprise at her gesture was evident on his face; not only was Hector not used to affection from anyone (other than very recently, and only from his lover), he was used to people instinctively shying from him. Hell, he fortified the stories of all his misdeeds by still making the occasional appearance down on Stark Street and fed the gossip purposefully to encourage people to stay away. His solitary lifestyle and perceived menace ensured that his past stayed in his past. But he appreciated what her hug signified and patted her back as she whispered near his ear, "I'm glad you make him happy."

With a smile and a quick, "Nice meeting you." Aimed at Les and Bobby, she climbed into her black RSX (Type S, Lester noted) as they all lifted their hands in acknowledgment and headed to their own vehicles.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: I never really understood why FanFic authors encouraged reviews; I thought people wrote for the joy of writing. I totally get it now - it's very rewarding to see that people enjoy what you've spent time creating. All my reviews and PMs have been so nice and supportive, and I greatly appreciate the time you all took to send them. Thanks to my ever vigilant Beta, snapesgirl21, her cheerleading spurs my creative juices!**_

Ranger was quiet.

Ranger was usually quiet, but a quiet Ranger and a nervous Stephanie were not a good combination. As they proceeded along the streets of Trenton toward the Haywood office and their 7th floor apartment, Stephanie worked on not appearing as though she was hiding a blessed thing. Nope. Nothing to see, move it along, folks.

She almost fooled herself into thinking it was working when Ranger said, "I smell smoke, Babe."

"W-what do you mean?" She stuttered, only daring to peek towards her husband. She noticed immediately that his grip on the Porsche's steering wheel was much tighter than usual and his blank face was etched with tension so subtle only Steph would've noticed it. This was not good.

"You lied to me." Was all the reply he gave her.

Shit. She hated disappointing him, and he did not sound happy or amused in the slightest. She gnawed her lip for a few seconds, then attempted a nonchalant tone and asked, "What do you mean?" He continued driving in silence, waiting her out. Just when she was about to cave and tell him anything he wanted to know, he said tightly, "You didn't get takeout. You weren't eating Pino's in that alley, and Morelli hasn't been in there today. Explain."

Offering up a silent prayer for the eternal souls of the now-doomed Bobby and Lester, she commenced to confess everything to Ranger – the gossiping, the worry about Hector, and finally the spying. "And we didn't even manage to get the bug back!" She finished in a flurry of words. She had worked hard, conscientiously even, at being a wife Ranger could be proud of. She exercised 5 mornings a week, logged 2 hours of practice at the gun range weekly, and never went after a skip without a partner anymore. She had adamantly opposed and fought against changing anything about herself for so long that she became immediately defensive when anyone broached the topic of training. That changed, pretty seamlessly in Steph's opinion, as soon as Ranger confessed his love for her. The security, the safety she felt ensconced in his arms and knowing it wasn't going to end when the sun rose forced her to accept what everyone else already knew – she needed to be able to stand by Ranger's side, not hidden behind his cloak of protection. So she committed to improving her skills and improving her natural talent and was happy – and completely at peace with – the changes in her life.

And now, in the span of one afternoon, she was going to lose all the trust and pride she'd earned from the man she admired most in the world. She felt tears welling up and furiously tried to blink them back, regretting bitterly the cause of them. Ranger pulled to the side of the road and shut the Porsche off. "So you were concerned for your friend's well-being and wanted to protect him. I wouldn't have expected anything less from you, Babe." He paused to tuck a curl behind her ear and asked, gently, "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Uh…I, uh, I thought you'd stop us. Because of how private Hector is and, well, you know….we used Rangeman resources. The bug and, uh, we were sort of on the clock." She sputtered. Stephanie felt a tendril of hope rise up; was Ranger going to forgive her this lapse of judgment?

"Babe, when I married you, I promised to support you. I take my vows seriously. If you needed to make sure Hector was safe, I would've helped you. Or I would've told you I already ran a background check on Vaughn."

Stephanie blinked furiously in surprise. Her mouth opened, closed, and opened again. "YOU snooped?! Mister Calm-and-Collected looked into Hector's new boyfriend! Oh, this is too good! And you always accuse ME of being curious!" She crowed. Ranger's acceptance of her afternoon dalliance made Stephanie positively giddy with relief, so she indulged in poking the bear a bit. "Why didn't you tell me you were looking into him?"

Ranger eased back onto the road and let the corner of his mouth tip up slightly; Stephanie was amusing him again. "Same reason as you. You know the Hector Gutierrez that works at Rangeman and is your friend. I've known the Hector Gutierrez that was a leader in a gang, and I've seen how hard he's worked to turn his life around. Kind of like someone else I know." He smiled and raised her hand to his lips, gently kissing her knuckles. "I was looking out for my friend and employee's best interests. The McGovern's are pretty clear-cut, average people. Hector could do worse."

"She seemed nice, and he's so pretty I want to put him in my purse and show him to my girlfriends." Steph agreed happily, then said in a conspiratorial tone, "I think Les has the hots for her."

Ranger exhaled abruptly - one could hardly accuse such a man of snorting - and said, "All Les needs is a pulse, and even that's negotiable."

Stephanie laughed and exclaimed, "Who are you and what have you done with my Carlos?"

Ranger's eyes darkened, and he growled, "I love when you call me 'Carlos', Babe." Just as they swung into his parking space at Rangeman.

"Well, Carlos, come up to 7 with me and I'll call you whatever you like."

* * *

As Stephanie was teasing Carlos, across town Bobby and Lester were pulling out of Pino's parking lot. Lester was slightly pensive, and experience had taught Bobby Brown to give his best friend some space when he got into a funk. Les was mostly a happy guy, sometimes intense, and rarely moody. The bouts of gloominess were almost always centered around a series of events that happened years ago, and Bobby wondered what prompted this.

Lester, meanwhile, pulled himself out of his reverie and clapped his hands together, as though to close the chapter he'd been reflecting on. "Let's hit The Landing Strip tonight."

The Landing Strip was an aptly named strip club located halfway between Trenton and Newark. It was a surprisingly nice place (if a strip club can be called nice) with clean bathrooms and pretty dancers who could actually dance. They'd hit the Strip enough, with various Rangemen in tow, to meet and eventually become friends with the owner, Mark Tatum. Mark was a fun guy to go out with and had access and connections to a variety of women, so he and Les hit it off straight away. He'd drunkenly confessed one night to having stripped for a few years after high school, intending to pay for college. He accidentally got an honest to gosh porn star pregnant, so his priorities quickly changed. He used his savings as a capital investment to start his club and now ran the most profitable establishment this side of the city and frequently had his now 3 year old daughter, Sophie, with him when he wasn't at the club.

"Sounds good." Bobby agreed. "We haven't been in awhile. You should text Mark, tell him we're coming up."

Les pulled out his phone and fired off the text. "Done. And if you skeet out early for that Korean waitress again, you're buying my drinks."

Later that evening at a VIP booth inside The Landing Strip, Les watched the dancers from his secluded perch alongside Bobby, Vince, Ram and Zip. The booze was flowing and, for a Tuesday night, the crowd was surprisingly big. An hour after their arrival, Mark finally slid into the booth to greet his friends. After a round of manly back-pounding and traded insults, the men alternated between watching the girls and catching up.

"Been awhile since you've been in! Yun-Ji was mooning over our boy here for a few days the last time!" Mark elbowed Bobby playfully.

"Yeah, since the Boss got married he's been working like, normal human hours so we've been stretched a little thin. The new hires are off probation now, so it should even back out." Les offered, his eyes glued to the stage. This, _this_ was what he needed – the autonomy of a club, the meaningless joining of two bodies before he left and returned to his apartment. Nothing else, he reminded himself. This was good; he was good _at_ this.

Mark interrupted Lester's introspection. "Hey, man, forgot to tell you, I referred a friend of mine in the city to Rangeman! Just his apartment for now but he's got a lot of friends and business partners up there, might be a good idea to schmooze him a little." Les thanked him for the information and asked his friend's name.

"Vaughn McGovern. He just moved to Hell's Kitchen."

_Well, Hell._ Lester had been looking forward to forgetting all about the zing he'd felt when Giana first spoke with the help of the blond waitress who had been eye fucking him for the past half hour. Instead, he turned his attention to Mark as Bobby was explaining that one of their employees was seeing Vaughn. "We actually met him today. Seemed like an okay guy. Not...stereotypical, I guess? But I can't imagine Hector with someone like that, so…" He trailed off as Yun-Ji leaned across the table next to them, flashing the very little bit her micro-mini skirt didn't cover directly at Bobby. She turned, caught him staring, and winked her impossibly long lashes at him.

"We met the sister, too. You know her?" Les asked casually.

Mark brightened noticeably. "Giana? Dude, that's Sophie's godmother. My best friend, G. I know I've talked about her before!"

"THAT'S your friend, G? I guess I never paid attention when you talked about her. I kind of thought G was a guy." Bobby admitted. Vince was now leaning in, listening to the exchange while Ram and Zip were off, seeking company for the evening.

"She was hot. You guys got anything going?" Les asked while taking a pull from his long neck. Blondie was practically preening near their table by now and Les flashed his dimples, winking at the same time. Yup, he'd found the evening's entertainment and he'd set about locking that down as soon as he pulled just a little more info from Mark.

Mark chuckled as though the idea was absurd. "Nah. She's just a friend."

Les raised one eyebrow at Mark, challenging that statement. Never? He knew Mark a little too well to buy that. Mark held up his hands in a gesture that said 'slow down' and said, "Never. I mean, I had a crush on her a few years back, just before Janine got pregnant with Sophie; G's cool, she's fine as hell and she's a blast to hang out with, so yeah, I thought about it. I brought it up to her, tried to convince her to give us a shot but she wouldn't. She said it was a bad idea, that it 'wasn't in the cards for us'. So I acted like a dick, of course, said some mean shit and told her I didn't want to talk to her. She cried and told me she'd be waiting if I changed my mind." He paused, remembering the conversation he was sharing with the three men before shaking his head.

"Anyway, she was the first person I called when I found out Janine was pregnant. It'd been, what? Four months, maybe five? She picked me up, didn't say shit about all the stuff I said to her before, got me good and drunk and the next day sat me down and helped me figure out what I was going to do. And now here I am, Mayor of Titty City." He finished with a lopsided grin on his stylishly unshaven face.

All four men laughed boisterously, clinked glasses, and finished their drinks. Mark excused himself to attend to some business, Vince headed for a seat closer to the stage, and Bobby went off in search of his Korean bed partner. As Les threw down cash for a tip and made his way to the blond, he did his best to ignore the additional questions that sprang to mind about the woman he'd met today and quash the desire to have them answered. He'd decided years ago that his interest in women would begin carnally and end casually and immediately. It was easier that way.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Two weeks after they meet at Pino's…**_

Vaughn sighed contentedly into his pillow. He was boneless, sated and content after greeting his boyfriend at his front door wearing only a towel. They'd made love twice before they even reached the bedroom and Vaughn speculated he'd never again dine at his breakfast bar without thinking of Hector sprawled across it, naked and gloriously sweaty.

With that thought, he chuckled and rolled over as Hector pulled him into his chiseled chest. They laid in the quiet, reassuring one another with feather-soft touches and gentle kisses, each drawing strength and fulfillment from the other. With a quick squeeze, Vaughn hopped out of bed and sauntered, nude, to his refrigerator and retrieved two bottles of water. He returned to the bedroom, tossed one to Hector and flopped onto the bed next to him.

"I'm so glad you came up for the weekend; remind me to send Lester a bouquet for covering your monitors shift." Vaughn said.

Hector snorted. "Better make it a stripper gram for Santos. Besides, he owed me. I had him on video eating Stephanie's Chocolate Belles that she thinks no one knows about. I deleted it with the understanding that he owed me a favor."

"Speaking of favors…"Vaughn murmured as he kissed Hec's exposed skin, "If you're free next week any time, I wanted you to join us for dinner. Gia got the job she was after and I wanted to celebrate with her. And see if you might be interested in helping her look for a place; I figured you'd know the area and what to look for as far as safety goes."

Hector slowly sat upright and sighed quietly; he'd been hoping to delay this part of the conversation. "I'm going to be out of touch the next two weeks. I wanted to talk to you about that this weekend."

Vaughn sat still, processing the words said aloud and those unspoken. "'Out of touch'. What exactly does that mean? And why would you be out of touch? Does that mean we can't talk on the phone?"

Hector motioned Vaughn to follow him. Vaughn stood and immediately pulled on a pair of gym shorts; Hec groaned internally at the clear barrier set before him. He wordlessly dressed and followed his lover into the living room, noting smugly the entryway rug that sat skewed and bunched up from their first bout of lovemaking. He had known he'd have to work at communicating if he wanted this relationship to work, and he _really_ wanted this to work. They sat across from each other and Hector steeled himself; he silently prayed to a God he wasn't sure listened to him anymore that Vaughn would understand.

"You know I was in a gang. Was. I'm not anymore." He began.

"We, Rangeman, spend a lot of time looking for high dollar skips. To find these people, we need a network of business associates to feed us information. Gang informants are a big part of that network, and because gangs are multi-state organizations, they're usually a fast way to find someone when we have a limited amount of time."

He took a deep breath and continued. "There's also a more…private side to what we do. The people we sometimes need to locate aren't always in an…official capacity. We…" Shit, this was harder than he'd expected. He wanted to be as honest as possible without revealing secrets that might get Vaughn in trouble. "We are sometimes hired by different people, different _official_ people to find a person or persons who maybe aren't in the legal system yet. Gangs don't talk to cops, they don't talk to investigators. They talk to each other." Hector leveled his intense gaze at Vaughn's equally intense one. "They talk to me because I'm still considered 'in', even though I'm out."

He leaned back and waited silently to give Vaughn a few minutes to process. Outwardly, he was calm and relaxed. Inside he was cringing. This moment was what he'd feared since he first realized he liked the man sitting across from him. That he'd tell Vaughn a bit about his involvement and be unceremoniously let go by the man he was now wondering if he'd be able to be happy without. As the seconds ticked by, Hector felt his stomach tightening and, to his utter horror, the ball of emotion that had been welling in his throat was manifesting tears in his eyes. Finally, _finally_, Vaughn released a shuddering breath and nodded.

"Okay. So you're still involved in some respect to your former gang and you've got to…finesse, nurture, I don't know, I can't think of a more badass word for it, your relationship with them to ensure they feed you information so you can catch bad guys, sometimes in an unsanctioned capacity. Like Liam Neeson in that movie where everyone quoted the 'I've got a special skill set' speech, right?"

Hector nodded wordlessly.

"And now you're telling me you're going to be _incommunicado _so you can…what, exactly?" he asked quietly.

Hector had debated telling him this part earlier. He thought the man seated before him was of a strong moral fiber and that he'd understand Hec's need to parlay with his former gang members. This next part wasn't pretty.

"I need to spend some time immersing myself. To put it simply, I've got to hang out with them."

"Try putting it less simply." Vaughn said, blank face in place.

"I spend time in gangland. I ride along, I lookout while they commit whatever petty crime bullshit robbery or lift a few cars. I might fight a few members from opposing gangs, I hear shit that, if repeated, could get a hit put on me. I don't participate in any killings and I don't condone the exploitation of women. Everyone I roll with knows this. They also know where I work and that my loyalty is to Ranger now. I work to keep lines of communication open and to make sure the respect I earned is remembered and honored." Hector finished. He was met with silence, and in an uncharacteristic move, opened his mouth and let it run.

"I'm telling you this because I want this, you and me, to work. You make me so fucking happy, _better_….I feel like a better man when you're here. I look at you and I see acceptance and forgiveness and I've never had that before. My family disowned me at 13 because I was gay and I never thought I'd ever find anyone who would want me if my own family didn't; I've never felt like I deserved someone to want me, to love me like you do – " He stopped abruptly, realizing what had just come out of his mouth. Neither of them had mentioned love yet and Hector had just put his foot in his mouth in a _huge_ way.

Except he hadn't. Vaughn's anger stemmed from his fear that Hector was in danger and he was gearing up to argue that risking his life to keep some _business contacts_, for Christ's sake, happy was ridiculous, but then he heard Hector reference love and he saw Hec freeze when he realized what he'd said and none of that mattered at the moment. Vaughn rose from his seat and slid next to Hector, wrapped his arms around him and kissed him with all the passion and ardor and emotion he could muster, and when he pulled away he was pleased to see Hector's eyes dilated almost completely black. Cupping the man's face, Vaughn brushed his lips across Hector's once, twice, and ended by pressing his forehead against Hec's.

"I do love you. I love every minute we're together and I spend every minute we're apart counting down to when I can see you again. I love you and I'm scared for you. This whole thing scares me fucking witless, Gutierrez, so you're going to have to baby me through this a little."

Hector covered Vaughn's pale, smooth hands in his own brown, scarred ones. "I love you, too." He whispered against his lover's mouth. Then he snorted, chuckled, and laughed freely in quick succession. He met Vaughn's amused eyes and said, "I always thought that phrase was so heavy, so serious. I've never felt lighter or more free than I do loving you." They kissed, tenderly at first, then with increasing passion as they continuously broke apart to whisper "I love you." to each other. Hector positioned Vaughn so he straddled his lap and they continued to kiss and grind against each other on the couch. It occurred to Hector at some point that they were making out, something he'd never done in his 23 years. Every sexual encounter Hector had before this man, this man he _loved, _had been full of sexual heat and lacking any tenderness. This lovemaking healed him, filled holes in his soul he didn't know existed. It was, in a word, perfect.

* * *

"So you know we're not finished with that conversation." Vaughn intoned, pointing a finger at Hector's chest. After they'd showered together – _mmmm, the shower_, Hector thought – they moved to the kitchen to make dinner. Hector had been tasked with chopping peppers while Vaughn sliced chicken and steak for fajitas.

Hector nodded and said, "What would you like to know." A statement, not a question.

Vaughn considered that; what _did_ he want to know? He wanted to know this man would be safe, that he'd be okay after he was finished with this little field trip. Not just in body, but in mind and spirit. He needed Hector whole. He wanted to know why Hector went from holding an allegiance to a gang, to owing allegiance to Ranger Manoso, why he was willing to risk serious injury or jail time for the man. He shared these thoughts with Hector and waited patiently while Hec considered them.

"I owe Ranger a debt of gratitude." Hector began. "When I met him, I was a 17 year old punk-ass gang member. I was running H for my Leader and I was in charge of account keeping because I was good with technology. I was also hacking. I had a pretty good reputation for being able to bypass almost any online security system and not get caught. I was teaching myself to write software that would enable me to insert multiple fake I.P. addresses to anyone trying to track me. Multiple, as in thousands, simultaneously." V nodded silently and gestured for Hector to continue.

"So one day I was out with some BGs, making the rounds and Ranger Manoso stopped us. He wasn't as big a presence in Jersey as he is now, but we still knew who he was and knew not to get on his bad side. He shocked the shit out of me by asking to talk with me privately, so to cover it I mouthed off. He had me, face down with my hands behind my back, in less than 3 seconds. He said it would 'behoove me' – that's the word he used, 'behoove' – to listen to what he had to say. I agreed, and he laid it out. That I was a 17 year old kid in M-18 and my life expectancy was for shit, that he understood having joined at 13 because I had nowhere else to go but now, I had options. I asked what options, and he offered me a job. Just like that. Told me about his company, that it was legit and that he needed someone smart and tough like me to help him with the tech stuff." Hector couldn't keep the proud inflection in his voice at this admission.

He stopped chopping and raised his eyes to Vaughn's, noting the tender expression on the man's face. "There is no question in my mind I'd be dead if it weren't for Ranger. He helped me bleed out of the gang, taught me to fight so they wouldn't kill me when I left it. He gave me a place to live while I got some additional training, and he gave me a sense of pride in myself. I'd never had that, much less acceptance. So helping him by doing something I'm already good at doesn't seem like a sacrifice; it seems like gratitude for keeping me alive."

Vaughn considered everything Hector said while the fajitas cooked, and Hector left the kitchen to give him a few moments alone. After checking the food and covering the skillet, he made his way to the living room where Hector was assembling his surround sound system. He sat next to him and threaded his fingers through Hector's, then cautiously spoke.

"I understand your loyalty to Ranger. I had no idea he was so instrumental in pulling you out of that lifestyle, and I'm grateful to him. More than I can even try to convey right now. I get your desire to help him like this, and if it's what you want to do, I'll support you. I just can't help but be concerned for your safety, baby. I'm scared you're going to get caught in the middle of some kind of fucking gang war and get killed."

Hector's relief was so immense his shoulders slumped drastically; he hadn't even realized how much Vaughn's acceptance meant to him. He placed a hand on V's thigh and said, "I understand that; you don't know the kind of influence Ranger has. No one, **no one**, would dare to fuck with him or with me by extension. It's signing your own death warrant." Vaughn's eyes widened, and Hector nodded. "It's a very serious and very dangerous line of work, but we take every precaution we can. We train, we partner up, and we track one another. I've got a tracking chip implanted under my skin that's only accessible from Rangemen's HQ in Trenton. Ranger's reputation, his influence is unmatched. I'm smart, I'm tough and I don't take chances with my life. Not anymore. Not since I've got a man I love calling me 'baby'." He smiled and nudged Vaughn playfully. "Did you think I missed that?"

Vaughn grinned and blushed. "If it makes a difference, I've never called anyone else 'baby'."

Hector's eyes darkened and he leaned forward to lick Vaughn's bottom lip. "I like that. Fuck, I like that a _lot_."

"Stop! You can't…_oh, god_...you can't start this now…_you're so good at that, right there_…the fajitas…"

"I'll buy takeout later. Now take it off. Slowly."

**A/n:**

**For those who don't know what a Chocolate Belle is, hang your head in shame. It's a TastyKake, reminiscent of a Ho-Ho but it kicks serious Hostess ass.**

**A 'BG' is slang for Baby Gangsta, a new young gang member. 'H' is the street name for heroin, and M-18 is a gang (Mara 18) on the East Coast with mostly Hispanic members. The term 'he helped me bleed out' is a method used when one wants to leave a gang; they're beaten by other gang members for a preset amount of time. If they survive, they're allowed to leave without retribution from the gang. While I did research that a bit, I want to give credit where it's due and tell you I first heard that phrase from FanFiction author veiland's story, 'A Change in the Wind'. If you haven't read it, you need to.**


	5. Chapter 5

Gia was anxious.

Giana pulled to a stop outside a large, 7-story building on Haywood Avenue in Trenton, NJ ten minutes before the agreed upon meeting time. She was here to meet Stephanie Plum-Manoso, Hector's partner, so they could go house shopping. She'd been hesitant to accept Hector's offer to have Stephanie escort her around town, but he'd assured her that Steph loved _any_ kind of shopping and, as a life-long resident of Trenton, she'd definitely know the best areas to settle in, so Gia accepted. Vaughn agreed to accompany her today, though she almost regretted his presence; he'd been a real bear since Hector left last week for a two-week long business trip.

She exited the car and approached the double doors leading to the lobby, her brother following closely.

"Are these the right doors?" she asked him.

"No idea. When I was here with Hector we parked in the parking garage and used an elevator to get to his apartment." He gestured with his chin towards the gate that led to the parking area.

She hit the buzzer, as indicated by the sign hanging near the doors, and waited. A few minutes later a clean-cut, heavily muscled man with a buzz cut and piercing blue eyes met them at the door.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

Gia smiled brightly, introduced herself and her brother, and said, "We're here to meet with Stephanie Manoso."

Ram let a rare smile grace his face as he ushered them in. "You're Hector's friends. Bomber's been expecting you."

"Bomber?" Vaughn asked as they stepped into the elevator together.

Ram hit the button for the fifth floor and nodded at the security camera mounted on the elevator's ceiling. "Nickname from her bounty hunting days. I'd share the reason but I'd like to live to see another day." Ram wasn't usually so chatty…okay, he wasn't _ever_ so chatty, but he had a thing for redheads and he'd done little but work and sleep for a good long while now. The interaction with a pretty girl felt nice.

So it was with Ram's joke hanging in the air, eliciting an appreciative chuckle from Vaughn and a feminine giggle from Gia, that the elevator doors to the fifth floor of Rangeman Securities slid open.

Ram led them to the monitor desk and asked Junior to call Stephanie down. While they waited, quite a few Rangemen suddenly found they had business that required them to pass the front desk. People inside Haywood were an anomaly; beautiful women in wrap dresses and heels were unheard of. They stood there for only a few minutes before Steph emerged from a door and smiled and greeted them warmly; she was eager to meet Vaughn and happy that Hector asked her to do him a favor. He asked so little of anyone that Stephanie jumped at the chance to help him.

As warm introductions and small talk were being made, word of the visitors reached Lester. He'd done an impressive job of distracting himself from thoughts of the girl – more specifically the feelings she elicited – that night at the strip club. He'd even met Mark a few nights later in Trenton and they'd met two girls who happened to be roommates and taken them back to their shared apartment for the evening. And now here she was, in his building. With a frustrated grunt, he stood to go catch a quick glimpse of her, though he cursed himself for being weak. He wanted to forget her as much as he wanted to investigate the instinct that warred against it.

He reached the front desk just as the elevator door was sliding closed. He caught the end of Steph's laugh at something Vaughn was saying, and a second before the two doors met, _she_ shifted her gaze to meet his. She smiled in recognition, and then they were gone.

* * *

After meeting the realtor and viewing two houses in different neighborhoods, Giana was surprised to find that she was enjoying her day. She normally hated shopping of any kind and while she was eager to establish roots in Trenton, the process seemed daunting. But as they arrived at the third house, she felt only excitement. The realtor, a friend of Stephanie's dating back to grade school, was a lovely woman named Sharon who was as eager as Steph to provide tidbits of information about the area to her client. Gia and Vaughn received a run down of every home they entered and its history, and that of its occupants. So it was with no surprise that when they pulled up to a cute bungalow style home near Gia's new place of work Sharon and Steph were off and running.

"Wow, I didn't realize the Francis house was still on the market!" Steph exclaimed.

"Yeah, shame about the divorce. Pauly took the money he got from Diane and made himself a little bachelor pad here and then went and died as soon as it was done. Shame." Sharon stated, not looking the least bit sad for poor Pauly Francis.

"That sounds pretty unusual, a man getting a divorce settlement from his wife." Vaughn commented as they approached the house's front porch.

"Yeah, it was unusual. But the fact is that Diane inherited money from her first husband and insisted on a prenup to make sure Pauly didn't get anything in the event they divorced because of infidelity. Diane's lawyer was some crack pot or something, because he left Diane wide open for a suit when Pauly found _her_ doing the dirty with…uh, a cop." Sharon stumbled over the end of the story. Steph smiled reassuringly at Sharon; the cop in question was none other than Joe Morelli.

Joe had been seen covertly canoodling Diane Francis while on duty by several 'Burg residents and Stephanie had fielded no less than a half dozen phone calls before Joe even made it home that evening. The fight from that episode had been monumental and Steph had taken time at the Shore to reevaluate her life. She'd come to Ranger days later and asked him to help train her. She was determined to quit short-changing herself in life because of the fear of feeling trapped in some domestic mold; Ranger was the bravest man she knew and she wanted to make him proud. The cheating may have been a tough reality for her to accept, but it was the catalyst that allowed Ranger to claim his woman, finally, and Steph was grateful that the end result was a happy marriage built on mutual respect and love.

Steph continued Sharon's story as Sharon unlocked the door for them. "So Pauly took his divorce settlement, bought this house and turned it into a bachelor pad and then had a heart attack, God rest him. His sister lives in Oregon and she's been trying to unload this place for awhile now."

They looked around the modest two-bedroom home. It wasn't the traditional split home style popular in Chambersburg and was laid out in a way that made the space feel big. The brick fireplace with a large hearth exuded the masculine presence of a man's home, as did the 72 inch screen that lay recessed in the ceiling above it. Across the room, there was a projector mounted on the ceiling. Steph explained that Pauly had been a diehard Rangers fan and liked to host parties on game nights.

The master bedroom was spacious, and the closet roomy. The master bath held a deep garden tub with jets ("You might want to think about sterilizing that." Steph whispered conspiratorially with a wrinkled nose, a veiled reference to Pauly's rumored sexual conquests). Gia nodded frantically, causing Vaughn to laugh at her. The back porch was enclosed and housed a refrigerator that housed an assortment of craft beers, according to Stephanie, and an odd set of large hooks in the ceiling. The women wondered about it for only a moment before Vaughn gleefully informed them that it was for a sex swing. Squealing, they rushed out the back door to the patio and currently closed in-ground pool.

Thanking Sharon for her time and promising to call her to set up more viewings soon, the three headed to lunch at Chevy's. After ordering, the waiter brought them margaritas and left them to their conversation.

"So? Did you like any of the houses?" Vaughn asked.

"I liked Pervy McFratBoy's house but I'm afraid of the decontamination process it'd take before I could touch any surfaces in there." Gia grumbled. "It was like the set for a bad porno in there! But the space was nice, and having a pool would be great. That TV was _beyond _tacky though. Who needs a 6 foot screen?"

Steph nodded her agreement. "It's a great house. I know Pauly had contractors out to replace the roof and the windows, and his sister is out west so she has no interest in keeping it up anymore. It's pretty expensive, though…" she trailed off and looked up, stricken. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to allude you couldn't afford it or anything! I just talk without thinking sometimes. A lot, actually, I do that a lot."

Vaughn laughed and patted Stephanie's hand; it was one of Hector's favorite traits about his partner and one he'd shared with Vaughn on several occasions.

"I understand; where does a broke college student get the money for a house?" Giana smiled reassuringly. "Our dad left each of us a small trust when he died. I have a friend who works in finance in the city, he helped me invest it and found a good company to manage the funds."

Vaughn snorted; the tequila was making him feel chatty. "Friend?!" He turned to Stephanie, who was enjoying the easy banter between the two. "It's her ex-_boyfriend_ who still has the hots for baby girl here."

"Oh, bullshit!" Gia rolled her eyes at him. "He's a nice guy who didn't lose a moment's sleep when we split because there was a girl in line right behind me to take my place."

"I will have you know Ravi Patel STILL calls me on occasion 'just to say hello', and always manages to ask about YOU, Delusional."

"Alright, friend, I think you've hit your margarita limit." Gia deftly stole the remainder of Vaughn's drink just as their lunch arrived.

They chatted about all and sundry over plates of tacos and by the time Giana snagged the bill to thank them for tagging along on her house hunt, Stephanie felt like she'd known them a lot longer than a day. ML was her best friend and that would never change, but the demands of motherhood were, understandably, Mary Lou's priority. Her sister Valerie was more concerned about making the perfect roast for dinner than spending time with her only sister, and Lula was… well, Lula was wonderfully crazy in measured doses. It was nice to spend time with another woman who was in the same station of life as herself.

As they pulled up outside Rangeman to drop Stephanie off and head back to Vaughn's apartment, Stephanie felt inspiration strike her and said, "Once a month we all go to this place, Shorty's, and have beer and pizza; you two should come! We're due to go weekend after next. You can meet some new people, hang out with us - it's a fun time!"

Gia readily agreed, but Vaughn hesitated. Trenton wasn't exactly rural Mississippi when it came to accepting an openly gay relationship, but still – he didn't know how Hector would feel about bringing him around his coworkers.

Steph guessed what his hesitation was centered around and said, "None of the guys have a problem with Hector. No one is unfriendly or judgmental because, frankly, your boyfriend is terrifying." He chuckled and Steph continued, "Hec is due back middle of next week. Talk to him and see what he thinks, but I'd love to see you guys there. It's an open-ended invitation, okay?"

After waving the duo off, Steph made her way to the fifth floor of Rangeman. Waiting at the elevator as she exited was Les, just coming off his shift.

"Hey, Beautiful, have fun shopping?" he asked, reaching out to ruffle her hair.

Steph slapped his hand away. "I'm not a puppy, quit _petting_ me! And yes, I did. I invited them to come to the next Shorty's night with us; I want Vaughn to feel comfortable here, and I want Hec comfortable having him here."

Les smiled at her thoughtfulness. "Okay, momma bear. I'll catch you later, I'm going to crash." Bidding each other goodbye, he headed to his fourth floor apartment.

Stripping himself of his uniform, he turned on the shower and waited for the water to warm. So, he mused, Red was coming to the Shorty's night. He knew from experience the guys tended to get pretty rowdy, and Les needed to decide how to play this. He could either be sweet and charming, or he could join in with the men, flirt shamelessly with every skirt in sight and ensure that the polite, nice woman who continued to invade his thoughts was repulsed by him. That she would not want anything to do with him sent faint stabs of panic through Lester, and he cursed silently. Resolving not to think about it anymore, he stepped into the shower and let the pounding water wash his confusion away.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Shorty's Night...**_

Stephanie Plum-Manoso was happy.

Her life was wonderfully simple and full of love. Work was great, her marriage strong and satisfying and all her friends were happy, Hector in particular. So it was with a heart full of cheer that she went about confirming with none other than Shorty himself the monthly Rangeman get together. As she typed an inner-office email reminding the men of the evening plans, Steph giddily reminded herself that tonight would be a special one. On a few rare occasions, one of the men brought a girl to a Shorty's night or out with a smaller group, but none of the relationships stuck. Tonight, however, Vaughn was coming and she couldn't be happier about the prospect of seeing how he and Hector interacted.

She skipped merrily to Ranger's office and paused at the doorway, leaning on the frame and admiring how her husband made something as mundane as a phone call look so…sexy. She waited until he hung up to pounce on his lap and say, excitedly, "Are you ready for Shorty's?"

Ranger chuckled; being around Stephanie soothed him like nothing ever had. She made him believe, for small snippets of time, that he maybe deserved some of the happiness she made him feel.

"Ready when you are, Babe."

"Everyone else will be there in two hours, but I want to get there a little early. I really want to be there when Hec arrives so he doesn't feel awkward." She shared.

Ranger nodded and nuzzled her neck. "You know, we can get a lot accomplished in two hours."

* * *

Gia pulled up outside a run-down building in a sketchy part of Trenton and slowed, hesitating.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" She asked uncertainly.

"I know it doesn't look…inviting, but the pizza is really great." Hector reassured her while stepping out of the car swiftly and opening her door. His eyes scanned the lot, assessing any hidden potential danger. Satisfied, he offered Giana his hand and helped her straighten. The boots she wore added a couple of inches to her 5'7" frame and a little extra sway to her step. Vaughn met them on the opposite side of the car and they all entered the restaurant together.

After taking a moment to let their eyes adjust to the dim lighting, Hector pulled Vaughn's arm toward the back of the dining area. As they rounded the corner, they were met with a rousing burst of laughter that ended rather abruptly as the handful of Rangemen noticed the trio. Stephanie jumped up from her perch on Ranger's lap and hurried to greet them, then ushered them to sit down at the tables. After a round of introductions, the focus turned to Giana.

"So you're new to Trenton." Zero prodded, sipping his draft beer.

"I am. I started last week at the VA rehab center off Quakerbridge and Stephanie was nice enough to help me find a house a couple of weeks ago, which, by the way, "she turned to Steph and continued, "I got! They accepted my offer." She turned back to Zero, though all the men were listening, and continued. "I'm due to close in 3 weeks, so in the meantime I'm staying with an old friend in Newark. I actually invited him here tonight, he's meeting us in a bit; funniest thing, he says he knows a few of the guys at Rangeman!" She finished with a smile at the thought of the happy coincidence.

Les and Bobby raised their beers in acknowledgement. "We know Mark. He's a buddy of ours." At Ranger's raised brow, Les elaborated. "Mark Tatum. Guy who owns The Landing Strip."

Giana smiled. "Small world! I can't believe you guys know Tate, he's been my friend since we were in, what? Third grade?"

"Isn't that when you beat up Big Delores for pulling down his shorts at recess?" Vaughn asked with a smile.

The comment earned another round of laughter from the men and Gia simply smiled at the memory and nodded. "Poor Tate. That kid was either born near a power plant or raised on Creatine. She was bigger than our teacher by age 9; he didn't stand a chance."

As the conversation veered towards their own first fights, the Merry Men became distracted and Les heard opportunity knocking. He leaned closer to Giana and smiled with all the charm he could muster.

"'Tate', huh?" He asked while smiling genially. He had been indecisive on how to proceed with her until he saw her. His mind was made up the moment she smiled shyly at the table he sat near; he needed to talk to her, to make some connection. A lasting impression, a one-liner that could become a shared inside joke...he wasn't sure where this was headed but he knew that forgetting about her was no longer an option for him.

Gia returned his smile and nodded. "I was surprised that he knew you guys. He had a lot of stories he shared almost no details about, so I'm guessing you met him at his club."

Vince overheard her barb and took advantage of Lester's momentary surprise to launch his own bid for her attention.

"Les's home away from home! What do you think you average, Santos? Two, three trips a month? He's left a trail of broken hearts at the club, that's for sure!"

There was absolutely no coming back from that comment, nothing that sprang into Lester's mind that wouldn't sound defensive. Bobby noted the Cockblock Heard From Space and shared a dark look with Les; they _would_ be having a conversation with Vince later.

Giana's smile was slightly uncomfortable, and thankfully they were interrupted by the arrival of the source of their conversation.

"Holy shit, I thought I was going to have to give a blood sample before the guy behind the counter would let me back here!" Mark's voice shattered the lingering tension and he was greeted by everyone present, introduced to Stephanie and Ranger, and placed a chaste kiss on Gia's temple.

Lester, attempting to regain some of the footing lost by Vince's comment (_fucking prick_, Les thought), ribbed Mark.

"We were just listening to a riveting story about you and a girl named Big Delores." He said with sarcastic cheekiness, playfully batting his eyelashes at Mark. This earned him another laugh and the guys teasing Mark about offering Big Delores a job at his club. Lester did his best to hide the fact that he was straining to hear what Stephanie leaned over to tell Giana.

"Don't listen to Vince. Sometimes the guys like to tease each other and it goes beyond good taste. Les is a good man." Stephanie was speaking softly to Gia, and Les was momentarily overcome by her ability to see the best in all the Rangemen. In a secret corner of his heart that he couldn't yet admit existed, Lester Santos hoped desperately that he could live up to Stephanie's perception of him someday.

Cal, having been brought up south of the Mason-Dixon Line and therefore

ever-attentive to social propriety, asked all the right questions to draw Giana and Vaughn into the conversation. Lester found out that they had a younger brother, Richard, whom they affectionately referred to as 'Ditch' because, as Gia put it, "What kid wants to be referred to as 'Dick'?" She also thought 'Richie' sounded pretentious, so they combined the two. Their father, an Army man, passed away just two years after he retired from active duty in a hit-and-run accident, and from the way she talked about Lt. Sean McGovern, Lester gathered that she'd been very close with her father. She and Vaughn had been named after their father's best friend, a man credited with having saved his life while they were in an active war zone, named Giovanni. Their mother, Charlene had a sister who was childless and a 'committed cougar', according to Vaughn, and a brother who'd married an Indian woman and had two children, a boy and a girl.

"So after Uncle Carl died, his wife, Veenum, took the kids back to India. They've got dual citizenship, so they're back in the states for college now. Diya is enrolled at Ole Miss studying agriculture and Dev is at NYU studying finance. It's nice to finally be close to him; we don't have any other cousins." Vaughn finished.

Steph turned to Giana and good-naturedly teased, "Is this cousin how you met the financier ex?" Lester's ears perked up at the mention of an ex.

Gia rolled her eyes. "Ugh, don't remind me. I'm pretty much a tool magnet so I'm taking a sabbatical from men."

Vaughn muttered, "Crazy talk." While glancing appreciatively at Hector. Hector smiled back and refocused his attention on his coworkers. It had not escaped his notice that several of the men were doing their utmost to grab Gia's attention and openly checking her out as she and Steph rose to excuse themselves to the restroom, so he waited for them to leave before addressing the table in Spanish.

"_She is off limits."_ He said, meeting each man's eyes in turn. "_She's a personal friend, and any of you who think you're going after her to sample the goods is going to drop it right now. Find another woman to be your whore."_

Waiting for an acknowledgment that the message had been received, he turned his head back towards Vaughn. His eyes met Ranger's, briefly, and Ranger gave a single nod of agreement. A casual fling with Vaughn's sister would result in Hector killing one of his employees, an incident he'd like to avoid. The tense silence that enveloped the table was broken by Mark.

"Well, I'm not sure what you said but it's about as comfortable as a colonic right about now. Wanna go shoot some darts?" he asked, stretching and standing to make his way to Shorty's dart board. Hector rose and followed him to give the weight of his warning time to sink in. He was lethal and not one man in the company would ignore his edict. He was sure that by the late morning meeting, the word would have been received by each Rangeman-Trenton employee.

Vaughn joined Hector and Tate by the dartboard. "What was that?" He asked Hec quietly. The atmosphere had changed when Hector started speaking Spanish, an occurrence that normally only happened when Hec was in the throes of lovemaking. Hector merely shook his head and murmured, "Later." to Vaughn.

As the evening came to an end and goodbyes were made, the men were mindful that Hector was paying close attention to them. They shook hands with the McGoverns, much to Steph's amusement, and left in twos and threes. Stephanie made tentative plans to help Gia unpack after her Pod was deposited at her new house in three weeks time, and Hector volunteered to help as well. Leaving her keys with her brother, Gia followed Mark to his car and they headed back to Newark.

* * *

The next morning at Rangeman, Les began his warm-up stretches in the gym. Bobby joined him, wordlessly, and they went through their routine. When Vince entered the gym, Bobby smirked. He knew what was coming.

"Vince! Mats, now!" Lester barked. Vince cringed and, with a sigh, headed toward the area the men sparred in. Les allowed him a few minutes to warm up, then entered the ring. Motioning Vince to enter with a roll of his head, Les danced on his toes in anticipation. The rest of the employees watched curiously; Les, being a member of the Core Team, was at such an advantage over the other men in terms of self-defense that he rarely sparred for fun. When an employee got called to the mats by Tank, Ranger, Les, or Bobby, it was almost always as punishment for an infraction. The men in the gym wondered, collectively, what had been Vince's transgression.

Les darted in, tapping Vince's kidney before dancing out of reach. Vince gasped and circled, trying to buy time for the deep, dull ache to fade. They continued on like this for several minutes, Les biding his time and landing three hits for every blow Vince landed.

"What, no smart-ass remarks today, man?" Les taunted. His face was a mask, emotionless and stagnant, but his eyes blazed with fury and his voice was tight, restrained. "You sure had a lot to say last night." A well-placed kick to the knee caused Vince to crumple, and Les held out a hand to help him up. He was in no hurry to end this session.

"Jaw tired, Vince?" Lester's voice mocked him as he landed a quick series of three punches on Vince's chest. Vince blocked the last punch and returned one of his own, clocking Lester's jaw. Les's head snapped away, then rolled toward Vince with a sick grin. "_Oh, shit_." Was all Vince had time to think before Lester knocked him unconscious with one well-aimed punch.

Giving a nod to Bobby as he assessed Vince, Lester hopped out of the ring and headed for the doors to exit the gym. He needed to run, needed to be outside to clear his head. Vince's remark, while uncalled for, had caused a burning, white-hot anger in Lester that he wasn't comfortable with. He wanted to believe it was anger at Vince for outing his personal business but suspected at least part of the feeling was shame. Equally as disquieting was the mandate Hector laid down. Les wasn't entirely sure he'd been prepared to pursue anything with Giana; she wasn't a woman you enjoyed for an evening and left behind, of that he was certain. Having that option taken away from him, however, relieved and vexed him equally. Lester let the rhythm of his sneakers pounding on the sidewalk lull him into a state of hypnotic relaxation and decided with some finality that while Hector's edict was serious, if he really wanted to persist with getting closer to Giana, Hec would eventually come around. They'd been through too much together to let a woman get between them.


	7. Chapter 7

Giana was overwhelmed…in the best possible sense of the word.

The paperwork was signed, the Pod containing all her worldly possessions had been delivered on schedule to her new home in Trenton. Her brother had an unfortunately timed work emergency; gone were the days of actors pitching in to paint sets and rehearsing after other jobs were over. He was in the big leagues now, and the necessary funding for a musical theater production had to be sought through investors. A last-minute call from his frantic writing partner pulled him from Trenton for an impromptu presentation to a potential backer just as they were arriving to move his sister in.

Waving off his apologies, Giana sent him back towards New York and turned to Mark.

"Well, Tater," she stated, using her favorite nickname for her oldest friend, "Looks like it's just us for now. Stephanie said she'd come by to help; let's just make sure we get the bed set up and some boxes unloaded." She figured the three of them, plus Hector whenever he became available, should be able to at least unpack the necessities.

Just as Mark was scrolling through his phone's contact list to recruit some help, two black SUVs pulled into her small circle driveway. Hector stepped out and approached a very surprised Giana as the cars began emptying. There were a handful of muscled Rangemen and a pert and happy-looking Stephanie gathered in front of her home.

"What's all this?" she asked, bewildered.

Hector shrugged. "We're here to move you in. I wanted to make sure you were settled in by tonight so I brought help." He stated this as though it should be obvious to her. Gia was taken aback by his thoughtfulness and threw her arms around his neck.

"You're the best, Hector, thank you so much! I was starting to panic when Vaughn got called away; I can't believe you did this for me!" Her eyes shone with affection and gratitude and she dropped her arms only to take his hand in hers and squeeze it.

"Come on in, I'll show you around!" she called to the men. Tugging Hector behind her, she met Stephanie at the front door and the women greeted each other warmly while Mark shook hands with the rest of the party.

The men were, predictably, impressed with the recessed TV screen. They went a little crazy at the size of the screen when she lowered it, and by the time they discovered there was surround sound they were begging her to host a game night; the Rangers were playing the Devils in a few days time and Shorty's was sure to be packed when New York played New Jersey. The mood was light and jovial and she readily agreed to host as a thank-you for the help unpacking. Vince was closest to her and scooped her up into a hug, twirling her around. This earned him a frown from both Hector and Lester, each displeased for a different reason.

As the afternoon progressed and it became apparent that they'd be finished way ahead of schedule, Giana took Steph's advice on fare and ordered delivery from Pino's for everyone. The party disbursed to assemble furniture and empty boxes, so when the doorbell rang a short time later, Les was alone in the living room unpacking. He opened the door and was met by a very pretty, petite middle-aged woman with familiar russet colored hair.

"Uh…hello?" he stammered. He'd been expecting Arturo, the delivery boy Pino hired to distribute his pizzas. The woman smiled prettily at him and regarded him curiously.

"You are not Hector." She stated with some certainty.

"No, ma'am, I'm not." He agreed, confused. Just then, Gia came around the corner to see who her visitor was.

"Momma!" she gasped, then hurried to hug and greet her mother.

"What are you doing here? I wasn't expecting you! Did you drive all the way here without telling anyone? Did you eat yet?" Gia fired questions at her mother without pausing to let her answer them.

"Oh, I'm sorry…Momma, this is my friend, Lester. He works at Rangeman with Hector. Les, this is my mom, Charlene." Gia swiftly made an introduction that Les was surprised to find he was nervous about receiving.

"It's lovely to meet you, Lester. And yes, I drove up to help you unpack, Giana." Charlene McGovern exuded charm and oozed classic gracefulness. She was an inch or so shorter than her daughter, but the kind smile they wore was the same and you'd be hard-pressed to find anyone who couldn't tell they were related.

Gia narrowed her eyes for a moment and then smirked at Charlene.

"You did not! You wanted to come check out Hector!" She teased.

Charlene sighed, then leaned in conspiratorially and placed a hand on both Gia and Lester's forearms. "All right. The jig is up. Your brother called to tell me he'd been called into New York today and I'm desperate to meet Hector. Lord knows if I wait for Vaughn to introduce me, it won't happen until I've started to gray and, well, I just can't meet Hector all gray, darling." She absently touched her still vibrant hair and mock-shuddered.

Lester chuckled and relaxed. Giana had been gracious and sweet all day, an easy smile on her beautiful face as she bounced around the piles of boxes. Lester felt warmth spreading through his chest when he thought of her and found himself smiling any time their hands touched. It surprised him to discover that he felt anxious when he found out that it was Giana's mother he was meeting, but Charlene had quickly assuaged the feelings of nervousness. And why should he feel nervous, he thought. It was something he'd put away to consider later.

"Well, come on, let's give you your money's worth." Giana ushered them towards the back of the house, stopping first in the spare bedroom and introducing her mother to Bobby and a still slightly bruised Vince. She, of course, knew Mark and was greeted with a resounding kiss on her cheek. They moved down the hallway to the master bedroom where Hector was assembling the bedframe with Zero while Stephanie was threading the curtain rod through the rivets of Gia's new curtains.

"This is Stephanie, Zero, and _this_" Gia stepped forward and linked an arm through Hector's, "is Hector Gutierrez. Hec, this is my mom, Charlene. She drove up to surprise me and help me unpack." She left off any teasing remarks, rightly guessing it would make Hector uncomfortable.

Hector recovered admirably, a slight widening of his eyes the only indication that he was anything but prepared for this meeting. He stepped forward and extended his hand to his lover's mother and tried to still the slight tremble.

Charlene McGovern took him in, this man that finally caused her Vaughn to pause and take notice. Hector had her affection and approval long before she set eyes on him simply because he made her career-focused son accept what he'd formerly referred to as a 'distraction'. Her romance with her husband, God rest him, had been one for the record books, and she yearned for her children to experience love without limits, the way she had.

It was with these thoughts that she stepped forward and accepted Hector's hand, smiling, and quickly dropped it to embrace him tightly.

"It's so, _so_ lovely to meet you, darling boy." She breathed while hugging him. She stepped back only slightly and rested a hand on either of his shoulders. "I've waited a very long time to know you, Hector." She beamed at him, overcome with the waves of contentment washing over her.

They were interrupted by the doorbell. "That'll be the pizza." Giana announced. They paraded down the hallway, retrieved the other men from the spare room and assembled in the kitchen to dig in. The rest of the afternoon went by swiftly, and the men were thanked profusely for their help. Stephanie, not normally a hugger, was happy to accept a grateful squeeze from Giana and invited her out for a girl's night with ML, Connie, and Lula next Saturday, which Giana happily accepted. After making sure to exchange phone numbers with Hector ("In case I need to meddle in my son's life and Vaughn won't spill the beans.", she reasoned), he was also thoroughly hugged by Charlene before the men of Rangeman departed, reminding Gia that they were promised a game night viewing for Friday's game. Mark was also hugged tightly and smiled while being instructed by Charlene that she expected to spend some time with him and Sophie before she left for Virginia Beach.

* * *

Back at Rangeman, the men dispersed to their various pursuits and duties. After changing into workout clothes, Les headed down to the gym for a rare evening workout; the earlier he started fighting the effects of Pino's for dinner, the better.

He was surprised to find Hector circling the kick bag, his focus entirely internal. Lester mounted the elliptical and set it for a nice warm-up. Thirty minutes later he slowed to a stop and climbed slowly off. The gym had emptied in the last half hour and he was alone with Hector, who was still viciously working the bag over. Lester slowly approached and stopped a few feet away.

"Hec, man, you alright?" he asked. Lester was starting to worry; Hector was notoriously close-mouthed and intense, but his present state bordered on frantic.

Hector ignored Les and continued punching and kicking the bag. Just as he was about to ask Hector if there was anything he needed, Hector abruptly stopped. He stood, sweat dripping off his well-cut physique, chest heaving from his exertion while staring at the swaying bag. They remained silent for a few moments, and then Hector spoke so quietly that Lester almost missed it.

"I've never had that."

Les wrinkled his brow. "Never had what, Hec?" He asked.

"The way she hugged me and talked to me, like I _mattered_. Like I wasn't staring at her with a teardrop tattooed on my cheek. She wasn't disgusted; she didn't even politely dismiss me, man. She just…." Here, Hector trailed off. Lester realized that he was referring to meeting Vaughn's mother. He wasn't sure if Hec was at a loss for words or if he didn't realize he was no longer speaking. The man before him was introspective and deep in thought; he nodded to encourage Hec to continue, to work it out before he got so overwhelmed he shut down.

"It was Gia, you know." Hector said, then stilled again.

"What was Gia?" Lester coaxed him along.

"The reason Charlene was so…accepting. It was Giana. She had to've told her all those nice things about me, about my work and stuff. If Vaughn told his mom all that, she would have just thought he was smitten with some new piece. She listened to whatever Giana told her about me. She must have really gone to bat…." He trailed off and rocked back on his heels.

"She was right, _hermano. _You are a good man, you deserve good things, Hector. That bad shit is behind you now. It's time you start forgiving yourself." Lester realized, as he was affirming to Hector that he was deserving and worthy of love, that he was, in fact, repeating the same thing Stephanie had tried to intone to Lester himself. In dozens of small ways, she tried to maintain an atmosphere of acceptance at Rangeman and it struck Les that maybe, just maybe, he was starting to believe her.

Still staring at the bag, Hector murmured, "Maybe…" and trailed off. He inhaled sharply, shook himself, and nodded at Lester before walking toward the exit. He paused, still a few feet from the doors, and spoke without turning around.

"I know that you want her; I see the way you look at her. I value this brotherhood above my own life, Santos, because without it I would be dead. But I cannot allow you, any of you, to pursue her. Especially not now."

Hector walked out of the gym, leaving lighter than when he'd entered it. Lester remained, rooted in the same position for some time, feeling as though the load that sat on his own shoulders had increased tenfold. Hector's words hung in the air, effectively dampening the light, elated awareness that had taken residence in Les's chest for the past several hours. The feeling of loss over something that wasn't his to begin with cut Lester Santos to the quick. He turned to the kick bag and picked up where Hector left off.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Girl's night out**_

Gia slid into the booth at Scandal, the club Stephanie suggested they meet at. Next to her sat Pam, a college friend who was a recent law school grad, now living in the city where she was setting up her own practice. The two ordered drinks and were enjoying catching up when Stephanie approached the table, followed by three colorfully dressed women. While she enjoyed the urban areas in the northeast, Gia didn't know if she'd ever become accustomed to the way women in New Jersey dressed for a night out; the confidence with which they displayed their shapely bodies left her feeling a little envious and insecure about her more modest sense of style.

Introductions were made and Connie, Mary Lou and Lula slid into the circle booth as Stephanie went to order their first round. Spirits were high and the conversation flowed as freely as the alcohol, and the women quickly became comfortable with one another. They hit the dance floor together and enjoyed a few songs before retiring to their booth and ordering a fresh round.

Giana blew out a breath and said, "As fun as last night was, I'm glad there are no boys here tonight."

Steph quickly explained that Gia hosted a party so some of the Rangemen could enjoy the Rangers vs. Devils game last night, then nodded her agreement and said, "The guys are great, but all that testosterone can get a little…overwhelming sometimes."

Connie fanned herself with an exaggerated motion and said, "Honey, with that group, there's no such thing as 'too much' anything. Those men are **fine**."

Lula cast an approving nod at Connie gestured towards Stephanie. "White girl here done went and got herself Ranger's sweet Latino ass on permanent retainer, but there ain't one of those men Lula wouldn't climb like a tree."

Pam's interest perked up. She leaned forward on her elbows and said, "Do tell! All I've heard about from this one is Hector."

As the women started sharing their favorite Merry Men stories with Pam, Steph leaned towards Gia and said, "I'm so happy you came out; I really love Hector having someone in his life finally, and I think Vaughn is terrific."

Giana beamed at Stephanie and nodded quickly in agreement. "I'm so happy for them; I never thought he'd bring anyone around. I love the two of them together."

The two women nodded in solidarity, an unspoken respect for each other growing from their shared good opinion of the happy couple. Mary Lou, taking advantage of the fact that her children were currently being cared for by someone else, had been downing her drinks faster than the other women. She brazenly sat back in her seat and declared that Bobby Brown was, by far, the hottest of the Rangemen.

"I swear, Steph, it'd almost be _worth_ blowing up a car if he's the one that showed up to kiss my boo-boos!" she giggled.

Lula took her man-watching seriously, so she nodded speculatively and drummed her freshly manicured nails on the table.

"Yeah, Bobby is fine, and he's a brother so that really increases the hotness creeping from his fine black ass, but I'm gonna have to overrule ML here and declare Lester the hottest Rangeman. Not only is he smokin', he's related to Batman so he's got the hotness in his DNA. Bobby's sexy, but maybe he got an ugly daddy and that face is gonna get all busted in a few years. Shit. Thinking of Bobby Brown being ugly just made me depressed. I'ma go get another one of these here mojitos, 'scuse me." And with that, Lula ended her speech and slid her spandex-clad body from the booth in search of their waitress, leaving the other women in gales of laughter.

Calming herself, Giana agreed that the Rangemen she'd met so far were very easy on the eyes. "I don't think Lester likes me much, though; he avoided me the entire night." She shrugged and finished her drink. Stephanie frowned and was about to delve further when Pam rolled her eyes and said, "Not like it matters; didn't you declare your libido D.O.A.?"

Gia huffed and glared at her friend. "I just have rotten luck dating so I'm taking a break. I've got a new job that I love, I just bought a house…I'm taking some time off from men." She nodded decisively, as though to reaffirm her decision.

"Who was your worst ex?" Connie was feeling no pain and in the mood to chat, apparently.

Gia sighed and said, "It's mostly been a string of dates that were dull or weird or they spent more time looking at their own reflections than at me. I've only really had three boyfriends; the last guy I dated, Ravi, worked in finance. He helped me with some good investment advice, then dumped me when the receptionist at his office got a new boob job. Before that was Barry; he dated me long enough to steal the pair of Blahnik's my brother bought me for our birthday, and before that was Chuck the womanizer. He was a fireman." Giana finished, waggling her eyebrows playfully.

"Chuck, Chuck, the Firetruck! I forgot about him. Legend has it his hose barely fit in the reel." Pam gave an exaggerated wink and the girls all squealed, delighted to be scandalized with this news. Gia blushed furiously but nodded in agreement.

"Wait, wait, wait…so you had a pair of Manolo Blahniks and some sonovabitch stole them? Is he full of holes, rotting in a ditch somewhere?" Connie demanded. She took her footwear seriously, as any proper Jersey girl would.

"No. I called the cops but I couldn't prove he stole them. So I only go to wear my pretty pumps once before they were kidnapped; they were the Loyalclo ankle-wrap heels, too." Gia wasn't much for fashion, but the shoes had been beautiful and the fact that her rat bastard ex-boyfriend stole them still pissed her off.

Mary Lou waved a dismissive hand in the air. "Shoes come and go; a man's fire hose is a memory that'll comfort you until your dying day. Now spill!"

* * *

_**Meanwhile, back at Rangeman…**_

Carlos Manoso entered the already full 4th floor conference room and walked to the head of the table. His men were seated and awaiting instruction; an impromptu meeting at Rangeman was rarely good news, and tonight was no exception.

"Gentlemen, thank you all for coming. I'll get straight to the point; Rangeman is being contracted by the Jersey state police, in conjunction with other state police departments, to address a steadily increasing problem with gang-related violence." He let this sink in a moment before continuing.

"As we all know, the Slayers were mostly obliterated in this area some time back and the Sureños that used to be the prevalent threat have migrated further south; easier access to ports near Mexico. The DEA has been tightening down surveillance in an attempt to stem the drug import business but, as we know, the numbers are against them. The most immediate threat in the area in recent months has been Mara 18." Here, he nodded in Hector's direction.

"As most of you know, Hector Gutierrez is a former M-18 member and has been instrumental in maintaining open lines of communication with M-18.

"There's a new threat, a more dangerous threat, entering the area. I've invited the lead detective of the TPD gang task force here to educate us on this new gang infiltration." With that, he nodded at Tank, who brought in Detective Joseph Morelli.

Joe Morelli had changed quite a bit in the year or so that he and Stephanie Plum had ended things permanently. The shame at being caught cheating on her hit him doubly; not only was he that much closer to turning into what he feared the most – a stereotypical Morelli man – he lost a lot of credibility at work because of his dalliance while on the city's dime. Joe had buckled down, accepted responsibility for his actions and had been taking advantage of the therapist his department used for counseling services. The appointment to the Task force had been unexpected and Morelli had every intention of being successful at stemming the flow of gang-related activity near Trenton. Now he stood before a room full of men dressed in black and took a deep breath – it was Go Time.

"Good evening, gentlemen. We've had several sources reporting an influx of military-grade artillery being sold to the dregs of Trenton society. Teflon-coated bullets, AR-15s, M-16s, the really nasty stuff." He handed each man a small pamphlet of information detailing what weapons they'd already confiscated, where they were found and any identifying information available. "We've been able to trace a lot of these weapons to the Korean Dragon Crew – the KDC. It's a small presence but a solid threat that we're trying to quash before it gets out of hand. These are bad guys, supplying other bad guys with big fucking guns. We need to stop this before the civilian casualties start, and since the TPD put me in charge of this Task force, I'm coming to you because you're the best at what you do." Morelli finished his speech and stood with his hands clasped behind his back.

Rangeman, collectively, wore their carefully constructed blank faces. A myriad of emotions flew beneath the surface of each man; concern for the people of New Jersey who would fall victim to this surge of criminal activity and determination to collect the intelligence necessary for TPD to do their part in stopping it. There were also quite a few men in the room who were surprised to see Joe Morelli freely admit that they were the best choice for this undertaking.

Joe took the silence to mean they were following him, so he continued. "Ranger tells me you've got an 'in' with the Maras." Hector silently raised one hand while staring at Morelli, his mouth set in a tight line.

"We need to know what the word on the street is. I've exhausted all my contacts, and all anyone knows is that the KDC is selling big guns to anyone with enough cash to buy one. No names, no leads on where they're holding them. We have no idea when the next shipment will come in. We've got I.C.E. working to watch exports from South Korea, but we all know there are no guarantees the guns are even coming out of the KDC's 'motherland'." Joe spit the last word out with disgust; this whole thing disgusted him, made him feel helpless. He was counting on Ranger to make this right.

Tank was the first Rangeman to break the silence. "So, basically, you've got fuck-all to go on and we're supposed to walk out there blind and start asking questions." He challenged.

Morelli sighed and tugged on his hair. "There's no nicer way to say this… but yeah. We've got fuck-all to go on and we need Rangeman to find out what we can't before a lot of uninvolved people get a serious case of death from this bullshit."

Tank's grin was grim and not at all happy. "Well, why didn't you say so?" He turned to Hector and gave him a long look. Hector nodded, reluctantly, and stood to leave without a word. A few minutes passed before Joe broke the silence.

"What the hell was that?"

Ranger folded his massive arms across his chest and answered. "_**That**_ was Hector doing your job for you, detective. He'll be back; we'll let you know when we've got something." With a nod at the men at the table, Joe turned on his heel and exited the conference room.

Tank closed the door behind Morelli and addressed the room. "Men, this is a legitimate threat. If the junkie down the street can buy cop-killers, those stylish lead vests you get to wear ain't gonna protect you from shit. Let's pool our resources and work our angle while Hector's doing the heavy lifting. Dismissed."

The room emptied of everyone but the four members of the Core Team. Bobby, Tank, Lester, and Ranger eyed each other wearily. This was bad news all around, and the fact that state agencies were contracting for information spoke volumes of the severity of the situation. Ranger spoke first.

"We need to find out everything TPD didn't tell us. There's no chance they came to the first meeting and shared all the intel they've gathered. We need to proceed with the assumption that we know nothing. I also want to make sure all trackers and weapons are fully functional. I want panic buttons in every vehicle and on every man." He sat back and pinched the bridge of his nose while squeezing his eyes shut. Fucking bangers, trying to make a name for themselves. This shit was giving him a serious headache.

Bobby interjected. "You know this is only the start. They're selling weapons to the drug runners; they'll be recruiting soon, initiating new members. They're also going to start collecting trophies to up their street cred. We need to research what that entails for KDC and watch out for signs that it's happening." The men shared a somber look before pushing back from the table to leave.

"One more thing." Ranger said heavily. "She's not involved in much of the bounty hunting side of Rangeman anymore, but you all know Stephanie has a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm going to want some inventive ways to track her and maybe encourage her to keep a panic button on her at all times. I'd appreciate any ideas." The Core Team, his brothers in arms, nodded gravely. Each of them knew what losing Stephanie to violence would do to Ranger, and they were determined to end this quickly. Standing as one, the four exited the room and set off to begin the process of hunting the KDC.


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N: This chapter is mostly fluff. I thought our protagonists could use a little vacation from worrying about a gang war. Hope y'all enjoy **_

Stephanie needed a break.

Carlos sat her down and explained the severity of the gang violence that was coming Trenton's way. He told her, very diplomatically, that while he trusted her to be proactive in her safety, she was a trouble magnet and he'd appreciate greatly if she would agree to extra safety precautions for the time being. Stephanie agreed, not because she thought his concern had merit but because making Carlos smile outside the bedroom was her one of her favorite activities, second only to making him smile inside the bedroom.

So she was outfitted with extra trackers in her purse, a watch that doubled as a tracker and a panic button, her keyring was amended to include a GPS device…she was positively dripping with buttons. She also agreed to an escort when she left the building, be it for business or personal reasons. She knew she would have a shadow regardless, so at least this way, carpooling with her bodyguard at least let her feel that the saved gas from a second covert vehicle was a small contribution to Rangeman's bottom line.

It was with this in mind that she went to Carlos at the beginning of June to ask sweetly if he'd mind her taking a day off.

"I just want to go to the beach for the day, soak up some sun and not worry about the latest threat against our safety. I need a mental donut, Carlos!"

He smiled at her, that special sexy smile only Stephanie got to see, and said, "Babe. You called me Carlos."

Stephanie rolled her eyes back so far she was sure she would be able to see the wall directly behind her. "You! Don't you start with that 'Mr. Sexy Pants' talk and distract me! I'm asking a serious question here; I'm going nuts with the monitoring and I'm really, truly doing my best for you, but the instinct to run from danger is still there. I need permission to run, Ranger. I don't want to do it without your blessing; I've hurt you by doing that in the past and I never want to be the reason you're upset again." She was whispering by the time she finished, and Ranger could see how earnest she was. With a sigh, he walked toward her until their foreheads were touching and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her towards his hard body.

"You take two men with you. You don't invite every friend you have; they all draw too much attention and the men can't focus on keeping you safe. Can you pick one or two of the girls? I'll even let you pick the Merry Men." He smiled at her and she beamed up at him, standing on tip toe to press her lips to his.

"That's perfect! Mary Lou is painting her living room while the boys are at Lenny's mother's house, so I was going to ask Lula and Connie. Can I take Lester and Hector?"

Ranger nodded in agreement, and with a last kiss, Steph left his office in search of her two preferred babysitters.

Her plan didn't execute as smoothly as she planned, however; Lula had an early evening date she had to prepare for and Connie had recently found a suspicious mole on her shoulder. Her dermatologist recommended no direct sunlight until they got the spot biopsied. Then Hector declined the trip when she asked him; he had business down on Stark Street to attend to. There were still no real leads in the gang intrusion, but he had a tip he needed to verify – word had reached M-18's _primera palabra_ that the KDC was preparing to start hunting trophies. Hector was trying to determine what types of 'trophies' the Korean's would want to collect.

It was with a dejected sigh that Stephanie went in search of Lester to tell him it would only be the two of them at Point Pleasant today when her cell phone rang.

"Stephanie Manoso." She answered properly, not bothering to check the caller I.D.

"Hey, Stephanie, it's Gia! Listen, we're sweating our balls off over here and since my pool won't be resealed until this weekend, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the beach?"

Stephanie instantly perked up and said, "Ohmigosh, I was just trying to round up a few people for the beach! That's great, I'd love go…wait, you said 'we'. Who's with you?"

"Just Tate. He's got the day off from Booty Palace and he just dropped Sophie at her mom's house so he stopped by. Should we pick you up at Rangeman?" Stephanie heard Mark's voice faintly, telling Giana to put the 'slutty bikini' on, then the loud '_thwonk' _sound of a head being slapped. Stephanie felt a swell of camaraderie behind her bosom; dealing with her coworkers daily required her to dole out quite a few slaps herself to remind the men of their manners.

Stephanie sighed and said, "Let me call you right back. I kind of need to have a couple of the guys with me right now, but since Tate's going I'll see if one is okay with Ranger."

Giana didn't sound phased at all by Stephanie's explanation. "Okay, talk to you soon!" she sang before hanging up.

It turns out, one Rangeman was okay with Ranger, at least after Lester vouched for the fact that Mark worked out regularly and also took some self-defense classes to help him keep the rowdier patrons of The Landing Strip in check.

So after changing into her bathing suit and donning a cover up, Stephanie retrieved her babysitter and the two loaded a Rangeman black SUV with towels and a cooler and headed to Gia's house.

Stephanie had been instructed to let herself in when they arrived, so she did just that with Lester in tow. While Steph excused herself to use the restroom and Giana was busy changing in the bedroom, Mark greeted Lester as men typically greet one another – with insults and handshakes. Les accepted his offer of a bottle of water, and took a moment to look around the house. He'd been here several times since the day he helped her move in to watch games, but always with a small group that usually included Hector. Gia was always welcoming and even doted a little bit on the men, making sure there were snacks and drinks available, but Lester knew it was because she wanted Hector's friends to feel comfortable. Still, it was strangely soothing to be in her presence, just spending downtime with her. It was never overly comfortable for him, or any of the men for that matter, as Hector continued to let his presence remind them of his precept regarding her. And while Les was sure he wasn't the only man harboring feelings of desire for her, he was mollified by the fact that the other men were bound by the same restrictions as him.

He was shaken from his thoughts by the very woman who occupied them when she breezed into the living room, smiling in welcome and giving him a quick hug in greeting. She did that a lot, he noticed with amusement. New Jersey wasn't generally an atmosphere conducive to warm greetings, but apparently Virginia was. Since the hugs were often accompanied by the small _zing_ he'd felt the first time he heard her voice, he found that he looked forward to the greetings a great deal more than he probably ought to.

The four loaded into the car after stowing a beach bag and a large umbrella in the SUV's cargo area. When Mark teased her about it, Gia replied, "I'm an Irish redhead. I don't tan, I freckle and then burn."

The conversation on the way to Point Pleasant was light and easy until Giana teasingly questioned the need for Stephanie's 'entourage'. Steph met Lester's eyes briefly in the rearview mirror and said, carefully, "With Rangeman being involved in so many facets of the security industry, there's sometimes a need to be…a bit more cautious than normal."

Gia nodded speculatively, then surprised them by asking, "Does this have anything to do with how worried Hector's been the past few weeks?"

Lester wasn't sure how to answer her without jeopardizing the integrity of their investigation, so he simply asked, "Has Hector been worried lately?"

Giana nodded solemnly and said, "Yes. The last time we went to Mass he was really quiet, and he lit quite a few candles."

"You go to church with Hector?" Lester's shock at this news was evident in his voice.

"Sure. I'm a lapsed Catholic, but I'm a Catholic." She answered. Lester was filled with tender affection at her answer; not at the admission of her own faith, but at her complete acceptance of Hector's. She really, genuinely cared about Hector, Lester mused. The realization that it wasn't just a show of support for her brother, but something much more organic that anchored her friendship with him encouraged Lester to share that Hector was working on a troubling case at Rangeman. Stephanie hid her surprise at Lester's candor while Giana just nodded somberly.

They arrived at the beach and set up near the lapping waves. They all lathered up, Gia with strong sunblock and the rest with tanning lotion, and stretched out on the sand. Stephanie dozed off almost immediately after mumbling a request to 'flip her' in an hour or so, and Mark slid some earbuds into place before closing his eyes. Lester was lying next to Giana, who was ensconced under her beach umbrella, and playfully asked if she was enjoying the sun.

She giggled and said, "I actually really like the beach, I've just got to watch the sun. I'd love to be able to tan like you, but I'm destined to forever glow in the dark." She stuck her pale, slender arm next to his tanned, heavily muscled bicep and sighed. "Yours is so much prettier." She groused.

Lester smiled sweetly and said, "My family is from Cuba, so we're all sun worshippers. You said in the car that you're Irish?"

She nodded and said, "Yup. Can't get much more Irish than 'McGovern'. My dad's mum came over to the States as a child. We've been to Ireland twice to visit relatives, though we haven't been in several years." She lapsed adorably into a faint Irish brogue when speaking about her ancestral homeland, making Lester smile.

"Do you like to travel?" he asked, and they were off. Discussion of the places they'd been – the ones Les could talk about, anyway – led to a discussion of lands unexplored that they yearned to see. When Les mentioned wanting to visit Liverpool to see the birthplace of the Beatles, she excitedly declared her desire to visit the Jane Austen museum in Chawton, and they were off and running again, dissecting each other's favorite authors and music. Lester was surprised at how sexy he found her intelligence and quick wit; in recent years, the only sexy attributes he noticed in a woman were located on her chest. Not that hers were bad, he reflected, sneaking a long look at her body. The bikini that covered her was modest by bikini standards. The dark green two-piece with scalloped edges looked lovely on her alabaster skin, and her full, pert breasts were drawing a lot of male attention. Lester made sure to glare at those he caught staring; just because he wasn't allowed to move in on her didn't mean he was going to sit by and watch some other lucky asshole do it.

They woke Stephanie so she could flip, and Giana handed her a bottle of water with instructions to finish it. She pulled Mark's earbuds out and announced, "Time to flip the Tater." before drizzling the icy residue from the cooler's water on his chest. He gasped and rolled over, grumbling and reaching for the bottle of water. Gia stood, stretched, and asked Les if he wanted to swim for a bit. Their conversation continued in the ocean and as the content progressed and became more personal, Les found that the feeling of tender affection he'd felt for he earlier in the car swelled until he wasn't sure it he was going to sink to the ocean floor or float away from the fullness of it.

When he mentioned to Giana that her mother had seemed like a very nice lady, she smiled and agreed. "It sounds babyish to say, but my mom really is one of my best friends. If I shot someone and needed help burying a body, mom would probably say 'I'm sure the miserable bastard deserved it, love. Now where shall we dig?'" Lester laughed loudly, then waved at Stephanie when she raised her head to check on them.

And even though it was along the natural flow of conversation, when Gia asked about his parents, Lester cringed and felt his blank face slam down.

"I'm not in touch with my mother; I haven't spoken to her since I was around eleven years old. And I guess technically I'm not in touch with my father, though since I've never met him I don't think that counts."

Lester was aghast that he'd shared that with her, little that it was. He'd had a handle on the animosity, the disgust he felt for his mother for such a long time. To admit the minute amount he just had was more than he'd spoken about the woman in the last several years, collectively. He braced himself, expecting an embarrassed apology for having asked that would no doubt put a damper on their afternoon together, or worse, questions about why he wasn't in touch with his mother.

But Giana surprised him again when she simply smiled, touched his forearm, and said, "So is it true about all Cubans having rhythm?" while winking at him. He laughed and promised to take her dancing at a salsa club one night soon.

The light atmosphere resumed, they continued their conversation. They talked of everything and nothing, and neither could remember a time when such a pleasing discussion had been had. Too soon, they were being summoned to the beach by a thoroughly browned Stephanie to find some air conditioning and some food. After loading their things into the SUV, they drove to a beachside restaurant that specialized in desserts. The second half of the afternoon passed as pleasantly as the first and by the time they arrived back at Giana's small home in Trenton, they were all thoroughly wiped out. They exited the car and Mark began unload their beach gear while Gia thanked Stephanie for coming and the two made loose plans to get together soon. The memory of Gia's sweet giggle and benign conversation bolstering his courage, Les stepped forward and wrapped her in a gentle hug.

"You owe me a dance." He murmured close to her ear, and was filled with masculine satisfaction when he noticed her pink-tinged cheeks as she nodded. He climbed behind the wheel of the SUV and tried to ignore Stephanie's pointedly curious stare as they pulled back onto the road and drove towards the Haywood building.

"Soooo…." Steph crowed, obviously enjoying his discomfort. "I noticed you two were awfully _chummy_ today." She had a cat-who-ate-the-canary grin on her sun kissed face. Stephanie was relentless when trying to gather information. Les groaned; he **so** wasn't in the mood for this.

"She's nice. She's also really smart so we had a lot to talk about." He allowed, hoping that would satiate Steph's curiosity. No such luck.

"Do you ever…I mean, do you think you'd ever want to, well…would you be open to the idea of having a girlfriend? Like, an actual girlfriend?" She started out hesitantly, but she hit her stride quickly. "Because Giana's great, I think she'd be really good for you, Les, you two could be really happy and you have to start thinking about where you want your life to go – " Stephanie was hurriedly trying to spit out everything she wanted to say before Lester cut her off, which he did quickly. He didn't know if he could bear to hear her say all the things he ached to hear.

"Beautiful, you're right. She's great – better than great, actually – but it's not going to happen with us. I'm just…I'm not at that place. She deserves somebody who is absolutely sure about what they want from her."

After listening to Stephanie cajole him and recite his 'good qualities' (though he thought she was far too generous with them), he cut her off again just as they were pulling into Haywood. Stephanie Plum-Manoso was like a dog with a bone when she got something in her head, and he needed to shut her down. He couldn't afford to listen to her matchmaking attempts anymore. He couldn't afford to let hope bloom where there was no chance of it surviving.

"It doesn't matter. Even if I did want to try something with her, I can't. Hector doesn't want any of us dating her. He's already reminded me once, I don't think he'll appreciate having to do it a second time."

Stephanie's mouth fell open and she sputtered a protest. "That…that's just…what the hell?! How can he think it's okay to do that! How can you _listen_ to him!?"

Les smiled sadly at her and shrugged. "Because he's right, Beautiful. I appreciate all the nice things you say and think about me, about all of us, but the fact of the matter is, Giana can do a lot better. She deserves a lot better. I can't manage more than half a night with any woman, and there have been a lot of women, Stephanie. I don't even have anything left to give her." He exited the SUV, walked around and opened Stephanie's door for her, pulling her out of the car where she sat in sad retrospect. Lester wordlessly walked to the elevator with her and hit the button for four, then hit seven for Steph.

As the elevator stopped on the floor where Les's apartment sat, empty and dark, he turned to Steph to thank her for the day and hopefully sooth any hurt feelings caused by his dismissal of her in the garage. He was surprised to see not the melancholy expression he expected, but one of determination.

Just before the doors slid shut, Stephanie squared her shoulders, looked him straight in the eye and said, "One day, Lester, you're going to see yourself the way everyone else sees you. Then you can stop trying to make all of us happy and start making yourself happy."


	10. Chapter 10

Hector sighed in frustration.

After the day he had yesterday, tonight's much-needed break from reality was both refreshing and cathartic. Hector was stretched out on the queen sized bed in Giana's guest bedroom while Vaughn was showering in her guest bathroom; Gia was discreetly ensconced in her bedroom and had been all evening. Since Hector was the go-between with M-18 and the Task Force, he needed to be available at a moment's notice. His time with Vaughn was at a premium, and since overnight guests at Rangeman were not exactly encouraged, Gia had insisted they stay with her so they could spend time together.

Hector had been eager to escape the building he worked in anyway because he was currently on Stephanie Plum-Manoso's proverbial shit list. He thought back to the confrontation that happened…had it only been twenty-four hours since she barged into his second floor office?

Stephanie was notoriously bad at hiding her feelings and also lacked the innate fear of Hector that the other Rangeman employees all possessed. So when she blew into the server room, still in her bikini and cover-up from her day at Point Pleasant and looking ten shades of pissed off, he knew he was about to catch grief over something.

She had stomped over to him, fists balled and spoiling for a fight. "I don't know how things work where you're from, but around here, you don't get to dictate people's private lives!"

Hector had carefully closed out the program he was tracking and turned to face her. "I'm not sure what you're referring to, but I'm from Newark. I'm pretty sure things work similarly to here."

She'd faltered at that, and he could see the questions about his upbringing bubbling just under the surface. With a quick dismissive shake of her head, Stephanie plowed on. "I'm _referring_ to your _ruling_ that the guys aren't allowed to date Giana! Where do you get off, thinking you can even make that decision for them? For **her**!?"

Hector knew he had to cut her off at the knees or she'd never let this go. Gesturing toward the chair across from him, he waited silently for her to sit before he began speaking.

"You feel that I've overstepped my place. Is that right?"

Stephanie snorted. "That's the understatement of the century, but sure, let's start there." Her voice was thick with sarcasm.

"What you see is me judging your friends, saying they're not good enough to date Vaughn's sister."

Stephanie puffed up visibly and opened her mouth to protest either against Hector's statement or agree with it; it didn't matter. He held up a hand to quiet her and said, "Stephanie, you know the side of these men they've allowed you to know. You see them go out to party, you hear generic tidbits about Binkie taking some girl home or Santos coming home at 4am from God knows where. But do you ever wonder what happens on the other side of this? What those women feel?" He let the weight of that sink in a moment before he continued. "I know I never did, not until they started looking at my boyfriend's sister like she was on the evening's menu. I know you feel empathy toward the men you work with, but try and feel some towards the women they bed and leave…because that's what they do. Most of them can't even remember how many women they've slept with. I won't let Giana become another shower room story, _angelita._ If that makes me a prick, then so be it."

She sat in silence, staring at him blankly for a few long moments. When she opened her mouth to speak, it was in a quiet, respectful voice.

"I'm not as naïve as you think I am, Hector; I know the guys censor what they say in front of me. I didn't grow up where you did, and I know that compared to most of you, I've had a sheltered life. But I am not completely clueless. If I believed what you're saying, that all the guys are hopeless, chauvinistic bastards who are incapable of love…then I'd have to believe that about Ranger." Here she'd paused and taken a deep breath, as though the thought pained her.

"I've seen the change in him, and I know you have, too." She had leveled him with a stare. "If I bought what you're selling, I'd have to give up on the man I love because I know a few years ago, he was right there alongside the guys. I'd also have to believe that there was no hope for you and Vaughn because until him, you haven't been the most emotionally available person, either. But I believe that you, and Ranger, and Lester, and Vince, and all the others are all capable of being better men than you believe yourselves to be. I have faith in you, in all of you. I've seen, firsthand, what having faith in a man will do for him."

Here, Stephanie had paused and looked lovingly at the band that rested on the fourth finger of her left hand, then raised it next to her face. "This is a symbol of the fruition of that faith, Hec. So you can write me off as being a sap or a romantic, but the truth is that if you call them hopeless, you're putting a limit on what you are capable of giving the man you love. And I know you well enough to know that you're nowhere near finished showing him how you feel."

Then she'd stood and hugged him before wordlessly leaving his second floor office. He sighed and flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling. Women in general, and Stephanie in particular, were so paradoxical that Hector wondered how straight men dealt with them at all.

* * *

Across town, Lester sat in the dark corner of a bar, watching Mark and Bobby shoot pool and flirt with the more brazen women in the bar. He was moody and silent, and none of the female patrons had had any luck with him. His mind was elsewhere, yearning for a different laugh, a sweeter smile than those he was being offered. For the first time in recent history, Lester Santos was not in the mood to pick up a woman.

Mark noticed his friend's sour mood and chose to bide his time. He waited until Bobby was engaged in a flirty conversation with a particularly aggressive brunette and sat next to Les just as he reached the point of buzzed enough to talk but not too drunk to sound nonsensical.

"What's up?" he asked.

Lester shrugged and said, "Nothing. Just not feeling it tonight." without bothering to make eye contact.

Mark sighed and said, "I'd call bullshit but I think that's a waste of a perfectly good curse word. Something's eating at you, man."

When he was met with a silent, sullen glare, he gave it a few more minutes before speaking again.

"Listen, I know we've only been friends for, what? A year, little more? But I know a man who's sulking over a woman when I see one."

Lester flicked his eyes toward Mark but said nothing. Mark took a long pull of his beer and steeled himself before continuing; this was going to require a little finesse.

"I know that look because I've had it myself. Janine and I…we're not on the same page. She won't quit her job because she says it allows her to provide for herself and Sophie without relying on a man, and I can't be married to a woman who makes sex tapes for a living. We're at a stalemate. But I love her and I wish we were at a place that would let us be a family. So yeah, I've been where you're at right now."

Les raised his eyebrows in surprise; he'd never, in all his time knowing Mark, heard him talk about wanting a stable relationship with his daughter's mother.

Mark smirked, as though he knew what Les was thinking. He took a deep breath and continued. "I don't know the whole story of what happened between you and Michelle." He held his hands up in mock surrender at the scathing look Lester shot him. "Hey, you brought her up that night we were in Atlantic City after you finished that bottle of scotch. You didn't say much, but I gathered that whatever happened was bad. You told me she was the reason you'd never give another woman more than one night again." He paused again, carefully considering how to word what he wanted to say to Les, and changed course.

"I'm reading Sophie this book, Aesop's Fables?" he waited for Lester to nod in recognition before continuing. "There's this one story, The Boy and the Nettles. Sophie didn't really like it, she only likes the stories with animals." He smiled fondly at the thought of his daughter. "It's about this kid who tries to pick this plant that has thorns on it; a nettle, it's called. He runs and tells his mom that it stung him, and says that he tried to touch it gently when he picked it. She tells him, 'The next time you pick a nettle, grab onto it and don't let go. It won't sting you if you hold it tight.'"

Lester took a long pull from his beer before setting it down and turning to Mark. "I have no idea what the fuck that means." He said in a serious voice.

Mark burst out laughing. "I know, right?! That shit confused me too, but there's this section that explains the moral to each story. The moral for that story is, 'Whatever you do, do with all your might.' All of this –" here he waved his hand at the bar, the bodies grinding on the dance floor, the people drinking in desperate attempts to lower their inhibitions enough to do something they'll be able to _feel_ later –"is a distraction. We both know that. Maybe it's time for you to quit holding onto this and grab on tight to something else. Something better."

Les rolled his shoulders, not entirely comfortable with this discussion. He doubted Mark would be so interested in doling out love advice if he knew who the cause of Lester's current state was. He decided to change the direction of the conversation.

"What about you? If this is all a 'distraction', when are you going to go after Janine with...what was it? 'All your might'"? He smirked at Mark, who gave him a sad smile.

"If I thought I had a chance of changing her mind, I wouldn't be in this bar with you right now." And with that, he finished his beer and stood abruptly, effectively ending their conversation.

_Great, _thought Lester, _Just what I need, more shit to think about. _

* * *

While Hector lay conflicted and Lester sat in consternation, in a different part of town, the dregs of Trenton society were unusually quiet. Word had gotten around that Stark wasn't a place you wanted to be caught tonight, and its usual collection of hookers, junkies, and miscreants were noticeably absent. An eerie hush fell over the residents in their dilapidated apartments, and even the ordinarily noisy strays were conspicuously silent. The ominous feeling of dirty deeds being done hung like thick smoke in the air, and Stark Street was feeling the effect.

A meeting was taking place, a not altogether unheard of event in this part of town. What was unusual about this particular meeting is that, unlike the others, it was completely under the radar of Trenton Police Department, Rangeman Securities, and Mara 18 – nothing happened in Trenton without at least one of the three having a lead on the information. The informant, a twitchy slip of a man known as Legs by the TPD for his ability to outrun most of the out-of-shape police force, sat sweating in fear. He waited alone in an abandoned garage, as per his instructions. He was clearly terrified, but the promise of three hundred dollars in exchange for a few days work was too great a temptation to turn down. He could buy enough heroin to stay high for a week with that kind of cash.

A Korean man, flanked by two heavily armed guards, entered silently and sat across from Legs. He stared the junkie down for a moment, then asked quietly, "What do you have for me?"

Legs jumped as though startled by the sound of the man's voice, and quickly launched into a hurried speech.

"So I did what yah guys asked me tah do, I asked a couple of, uh, associates of mine some questions about the guy you asked me to follow." The slight man looked proud of himself for the use of such professional verbiage, then shrank when he felt the ice in the sallow man's stare. Legs licked his lips rapidly, a nervous tick, before continuing. "I, uh, borrowed a car and tailed him a while, too, so I know where his woman does her shopping, which friend she goes to the bakery with, all that stuff. I hadda be extra sneaky on account of the fact that he's a cop, too."

He fumbled in his pockets for several seconds before extracting a crumpled, dingy piece of paper with notes made in his own shaky script. With a nod from the leader, one of the guards retrieved the paper and pocketed it. He stood to leave, straightening his carefully tailored jacket without looking at an increasingly desperate Legs.

"Wait! Where's mah money? Ya promised, ya said if I followed that cop's woman you'd pay me and I need that money, man, I need the money so I can get my fix, I got the shakes already, I need the –"

Legs voice ended abruptly as the sound of a single gunshot echoed through Stark Street. Its residents shivered collectively and hunkered down to ride this terrible night out. At an abandoned building in the seediest part of town, three men exited where four had entered.

The dark man with a dark purpose smiled his dark smile. The Korean Dragon Crew had the information they needed to collect their first trophy kill. Soon, every person in the tri-state area would know their name and fear their power.

_**A/n: So Stephanie caught onto Hector's agenda, we have a name for Lester's reason for keeping things 'casual', and the gang activity is ramping up. Any guesses who the cop's woman they're targeting is?**_

_**This has been so much fun, all the reviews and PMs have been awfully nice and my Beta, snapesgirl21, is just the best cheerleader ever. The traffic on this story, MY story (that's surreal) has been awesome. I hope y'all are enjoying it as much as I am.**_


	11. Chapter 11

**A/n: lots of good guesses but no one guessed who the 'cop's woman' was (: Enjoy!**

Stephanie was drunk.

She stretched languidly and adjusted her sunglasses. _I could get used to this_, she thought as she raised her icy drink to her lips. She was draped over a chaise by Gia's newly sealed pool, laying out and enjoying the sun along with Lula, Connie, Pam, Mary Lou and Vaughn. Two weeks ago, there'd been a murder on Stark that Ranger seemed to think was linked to the Gang Task Force Morelli was working with. She snorted delicately; when she'd learned of his affair last year, she never thought they'd be in a place where he'd be able to work peacefully alongside her _husband_. She licked her lips reflexively; she knew she'd never tire of how much that one word pleased her. Her _husband_ had been concerned enough to request that she keep a low public profile, so lazing around at Gia's house by the pool for the day was the perfect solution.

They'd started the day off with mimosas, moved onto wine after lunch and now they were sipping margaritas and in danger of becoming really obnoxious. Vaughn declared himself 'sober sister' and offered to abstain to keep the others from drowning in the pool, so of course they ribbed him mercilessly for most of the day.

"So you telling me you ain't never brought no man home to meet yo' momma before Hector? That's some romantic shit." Lula said.

Vaughn shrugged and said, "It's worked out for the best. No one else lasted longer than a few weeks. I'm actually pretty happy that he's the first one to meet my family."

"I love it." A thoroughly buzzed Giana piped up. "Hector's brilliant and sweet and he is niiiiice to look at." The women cackled; their main form of entertainment for the past hour had been ranking and comparing the different men they knew as the sun faded from view. "I'm glad your boyfriend isn't ugly, brother."

Vaughn rolled his eyes at her and smirked. She was amusing him.

"I wonder if Ditch will like him?" she mused.

"Who's that?" Connie asked.

"That's my baby brother. He's overseas now….here, wait!" and Gia flounced inside to retrieve a photo album. Inside was page after page full of pictures depicting a little tow-headed boy who gradually turned into a tall, muscular man with dirty blond hair. He resembled Vaughn, though his hair was several shades lighter and his frame much larger. Connie whistled and Pam rolled her eyes.

"I know, right? Just my luck, my friend has two hot brothers and one is gay while the other one is too young."

"It's really unfair. It's like you all fell out of the Hot tree and hit every Sexy branch on the way down, and landed in a pile of Rockin' Body at the bottom." Mary Lou pouted.

This caused another round of laughter from the women, and Vaughn whipped out his phone to text Hector. The girls were getting really lit and he'd need backup soon. Hector had, ehm, _enticed_ him into keeping an eye on the girls today for him. He hadn't been able to share many details, but Vaughn knew whatever undercover work Hector was doing was very serious. He figured Hec might need a break, too.

The party moved inside where Giana whipped out another photo album. "This one is pictures of Tate!" she announced gleefully. The women raised their glasses in salute and crowded around the album.

"No! No way! He was a STRIPPER?!" Stephanie shrieked when they reached the midway point of the album. The women clapped, applauding the news as well as the photo Gia had of Mark on stage at a club.

Pam nodded drunkenly, grinning widely. "Yup." She said, popping the 'p'. "Know what else? He had a stage name. Wanna know what it was?" This earned another screaming cheer from the women.

"IT WAS 'MAGIC'!" Gia crowed, and they howled. By now, they were clutching their stomachs, drinks forgotten. They all sat down on the floor around the coffee table, the album spread out in front of them. A few were laughing so hard they were wiping tears from their cheeks, and it was at this moment the door opened and the man of the hour entered. Mark Tatum grinned, not yet knowing what the joke was but happy at the prospect of a drunk Gia – she was always a hoot after a few drinks. He was followed by Les and Bobby, having been dispatched by Hector.

Vaughn threw his hands up in the air and said, "Tag, you're it. The more they drink, the louder they get. It's like the frigging 'Gremlins' movie except nobody told me the rules and now they're crazy."

"Oh. My. Gawd." Gia gasped, sitting up. "Do you guys realize what we'd get if we combined Tater's nickname and his stage name?!"

Collectively, the six women paused, gasped, and screeched, "MAGIC TATER!" and lost any ounce of control they had left. The group rolled and howled as the men caught up with the joke. Mark rolled his eyes and silently cursed his friend; he'd never hear the end of this from Bobby or Lester. They were, he noted wryly, grinning like fools while the girls rolled around on the floor. He clapped his hands together and announced, loudly, "All right, ladies, it's time to wrap this party up. We're here to drive everybody home."

He managed to dodge Connie's outstretched hand and the fistful of dollar bills she offered him for 'just one song' and loaded her, Lula and ML into the SUV. Vaughn offered to drive Stephanie to Rangeman so that he could see Hector, and Lester offered to stay and watch Gia and Pam until he returned with Hec, silently praying Hector wouldn't kill him for stealing a few precious minutes with Vaughn's sister.

Pam fell into Gia's bed and was snoring before Les could even pull her shoes off. Shaking his head, he rolled her onto her side and covered her up. Giana'd made her way to the bathroom and he heard the sound of water running and movement. As he sat, perched in the wingback chair she'd placed in the corner of her room, waiting for her, he was struck by how oddly domestic and natural this felt – waiting for her to complete her bedtime ritual so he could wish her sweet dreams.

The door opened and she stood there for a moment, illuminated by the light behind her. She was beautiful, Les thought. So unaware and natural, her face freshly washed and a tank top on over a pair of boxers. She exuded purity and sweetness; this, he thought with aching clarity, was what he wanted. This mundane perfection, this everyday, normal utopia. She smiled shyly at him and asked, "Are you my babysitter?" while wobbling slightly.

He smiled, wistfully and murmured "Just until your brother gets back with Hec."

"Big plans for later?" she asked, trying to appear nonchalant.

"Nah. The guys wanted to go out but I just got off a shift and I'm scheduled to start at 7am. I just swung by when Hec texted Magic Tater to check on you."

She snorted. "He's going to get me back for that one, you know. If he starts plotting revenge, can I count on you to be my inside man?" Holy shit, she was flirting. Lester knew this was temporary, brought on by the alcohol and short lived because Hector would be here any minute, so he savored it. He looked at her, his eyes hooded and dark, and nodded slowly.

Gia flushed, nervous by Lester's sudden intensity, and dropped her gaze to his shoes. "Um, well, I guess I'm going to turn in." she stammered. Before she could lose her nerve, she stepped forward to brush a quick, chaste kiss on his cheek. "Thanks for taking care of us." She gestured towards Pam's inert form. Lester smiled and said, "Anytime." Just as he heard her front door open. He slipped quickly out of the room just as Hector rounded the corner.

Hector froze upon seeing Santos exiting Giana's bedroom. His hand twitched, flexing toward the blade he wore at his waist. Les held up his hands in a defensive gesture and said, in a low tone, "I was just making sure they got into bed okay. They're pretty wasted; I didn't want anyone puking on the floor."

Hector's stare said it all. Devoid of normal emotion, it projected only menace. He growled, low and dangerous, "I will not warn you again."

Lester's mouth tightened into a thin, taut line. "What do you think will happen?" He asked, his voice deceptively soft. Inside, he was equal parts panicked and furious.

Hector hissed back, "What always happens. A few hours of using her to even some score that has nothing to do with her before you leave. Isn't that your usual _modus operandi,_ Santos?"

Les stood, rigid and horrified. It _was_ the way he operated, and he couldn't blame Hector for his concern. Hell, he respected the man for wanting to protect the woman who lay sleeping only a few yards from where he stood. But to hear it, thrown at him so bluntly, reminded him of all the reasons he should stay away from her. She deserved more than he had to offer, that was indisputable.

He gave a single stiff nod of acknowledgment and stalked past Hector, past a concerned looking Vaughn and toward the front door. If Bobby wasn't already here, he'd start the walk back toward Haywood. It was only 5 miles, and Lester suddenly had a lot of feelings he needed to walk off.

* * *

The Chambersburg section of Trenton was constant as the sun; men drove American cars, women gossiped like it was part of training for an Olympic sport, and houses were kept repaired and yards neat. Normally, the neighborhood reveled in the tiresome monotony of their humdrum lives, but tonight….tonight, people would mourn the loss of one of their own. Tonight, the invariability of the routines established two generations ago would work against the prevailing peace found in the 'Burg.

The woman being stalked by the Korean man had no idea that her remaining earthly time could be measured in minutes, rather than the years she expected. She had plans, this native daughter of New Jersey. Her husband, a police officer for the city of Trenton, would retire, eventually. They'd sell their house in Chambersburg and move to warmer climates, probably Florida. It was the 'Burg way, to relocate to sunny Miami. Why, there was practically a second chapter of her city located in a tropical climate! She planned to make casseroles for grieving neighbors, cookies for church bake sales and roasts every Sunday for her beloved husband for years to come. It was with these pleasant thoughts running through her mind that Myra Costanza unlocked her front door for what would be the last time in her life.

As she made her way through her house, she had no idea that a merchant of death waited quietly in her kitchen, cataloging her final trip through her small house.

Myra, thankfully, was so unaware of the proverbial snake poised to strike that she didn't see or hear the blow that rendered her unconscious. She was oblivious to the man who trussed her up tightly and loaded her into a small, nondescript sedan, and she was incognizant when the enforcer for the KDC strangled the life out of her.

Thankfully at peace, she was beyond the realm of this world by the time she was calculatingly arranged so that her discovery would have the maximum gruesome impact on the community she had loved so dearly in life, and she was blessedly deceased when the man with the wan complexion unsheathed his knife and went to work. The Korean Dragon Crew was leaving their first calling card, and it was going to make an earth-shattering impact tomorrow when the body of Myra Costanza, beloved wife of 'Crazy' Carl, was discovered.


	12. Chapter 12

_**A/n: I'm leaving for vacation early in the morning so this is my last post for approximately a week. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and I'm shamelessly dropping the hint that I'd love to come back to lots of reviews/critiques. Take care!**_

Carlos Manoso was not having a good morning.

He began his day earlier than usual because his wife had had too much to drink last night and snored him out of their marital bed at the unholy hour of 4a.m.; not that he wasn't used to early mornings, but since he stopped taking dangerous missions after he married Stephanie they had become an anomaly.

He headed to the gym to find Santos already there, and by the looks of things he'd had an even earlier morning than Ranger. Since he wasn't in the habit of delving into his employees personal lives, he had no idea what was eating his cousin. He now surmised, rubbing the darkening bruise on his jaw, that it was serious. Lester had motioned to the sparring ring and given Ranger a run for his money. When the session ended, they were both dripping sweat and gasping in pain.

And now he had to go wake his wife up and break some awful news to her. He wished he could crawl back into bed beside her and ignore this most grisly chore, but he steeled himself and headed toward the elevator.

He entered the bedroom bearing gifts – not her usual hangover cure, but a steaming mug of coffee and a donut. He doubted she'd take the time to eat an entire order of fries this morning after he broke the news of Myra Costanza's death to her; after all, Stephanie had grown up alongside Carl and interacted almost daily with him during her bounty hunting days. She was sure to be affected by this, especially when the details of how they found her got out.

Setting the mug and pastry down on Stephanie's bedside table, he sat beside her and began rubbing slow circles on her back. He tucked her wild, curly hair behind her ear and kissed her temple. "Babe." He said softly. "Babe, I need you to wake up." She burrowed deeper into her pillow and growled at him; he smiled sadly and kissed her again.

"Stephanie, please, I need you to wake up now."

She sat upright, alarmed and squinting. For Ranger to use her name _and_ say 'please' in one sentence was enough to make her forget how much she hated mornings.

"What is it? What's happened?" she asked, searching his brown eyes for a hint of the trouble coming.

"Your friend, Carl Costanza?" She nodded slowly in acknowledgment. "His wife, Myra was killed last night."

"Oh my God! Myra…geez, she was my age! What happened, was she in an accident?" Her face showed only concern and he braced himself to finish.

"No, Babe." He said gently, tucking an errant curl behind the same ear. "She wasn't in an accident. She was kidnapped and, as far as preliminaries show, she was strangled." He didn't break eye contact, waiting for her to nod so he could continue. "She was found…displayed, for lack of a better term, down in the bad part of Stark. Remember the court where the Slayers took you?"

Stephanie gulped down the bile rising in her throat, closed her eyes and whispered, "What did they do to her, Carlos?"

He threaded his fingers through hers and whispered, "I'd rather not tell you the details. Please, " he said as she opened her mouth to protest, "please, trust me. She was mutilated after she was strangled and arranged in a ritualistic manner. We think, and TPD agrees, it was the Korean gang members. Their first 'calling card'." He sneered as he spat out the last two words.

She sat silently for a moment, then sniffed before two fat tears slid down her cheeks. She huffed a sigh and made to stand up before wincing. Ranger gestured toward the coffee, which she lifted gratefully and took a long, slow sip.

"I've got to go over there…I grew up around Carl, he'll need help with the arrangements…" Ranger realized she was talking to herself, making a mental checklist to try and get through this by helping her friend out. He laid a hand on her arm to get her attention and said, "Babe, you're going to need to stay here today…there's more."

_**Downstairs**_

Detective Joe Morelli waited in Conference Room A inside Rangeman Headquarters. He sighed and scrubbed at his eyes; his morning had started with a 2am phone call from another homicide detective, asking him to come down to Stark. Joe was ashamed that he felt grateful to have been called down to deal with Myra's murder; several other officers had been tasked with notifying Crazy Carl that his wife had been murdered. For once, Joe was grateful to being assigned a crime scene.

Now he sat, waiting for Ranger to call his men into the conference room to dissect the murder and strategize. At least that's what Joe assumed would happen.

When Ranger stalked in looking pissed, followed by Stephanie, Hector, and the rest of the Core Team, Joe had a feeling this meeting was going to go to Hell pretty quickly. He wasn't disappointed.

"Detective Morelli." Ranger began coolly. "I believe, when Rangeman was contacted by **your** department, the agreement was that we would help with the investigative angle by using our contacts – namely, Hector Gutierrez would pass on any rival gang information the Maras wouldn't share with the cops. Is that right?"

Morelli had a feeling he knew where this was headed. He took a deep, shuddering breath, closed his eyes and nodded. "Yes. That was the agreement."

"Then why am I hearing about a motherfucking contract on Hector Gutierrez, Detective? And why am I also just now hearing that TPD was **aware** of said motherfucking contract?"

Joe opened his mouth to respond but before he had the chance, Stephanie was across the table. She got in a few good punches and her patented 'knee to the balls' move before Tank plucked her off a now groaning Morelli. She continued to screech obscenities at Joe, finding new and interesting ways to curse him and his mother for not drowning his sorry ass at birth like she should have.

Joe finally barked out, "I was under strict orders not to say anything! I swear, Cupcake, I wanted to tell you guys. I intended to after the meeting we had scheduled tomorrow, regardless of orders, but then Myra –" here Joe paused, choked up. Myra had been a close acquaintance, if not a friend, for years. He'd seen a lot of her in her comings and goings at the police station, bringing Carl lunches and dinners when he had to work late. She had been a kind, nice lady who didn't deserve to be flayed open for the public at large to ogle.

He took a fortifying breath and continued. "Then Myra was killed. That wasn't supposed to be the first hit; the first hit was supposed to be Gutierrez. Best we can figure, he's a prime target for a trophy because he's an ex-Mara and he's under Ranger's protection. Taking him out is spitting in the face of the two most feared and respected organizations on the east coast. We found that out four, five days ago now. It wasn't supposed to happen for a while!" He said loudly, panicked when Stephanie lunged for him again. "That's why they deemed it unnecessary to tell Rangeman yet. They wanted to keep it 'need to know' while they worked on their informants. They didn't want too many questions being asked, they were worried the KDC would be tipped off." He finished miserably. He knew that any future working relationships between TPD and Rangeman were as good as dead.

"So it was okay with you assholes to just let **my partner** dangle in the wind!? Does that sound accurate, detective?" Stephanie spat at him. "You know what, fuck you, Morelli. Forget you know me, and forget you know where Rangeman is. We're done, forever."

"And I'm sure it goes without saying, but your can shove your Task Force up your ass." Bobby said darkly.

"And be sure to tell them Rangeman said 'Fuck your mother'." Lester added. "Oh, and **when** Rangeman gets a handle on this – because we will – the media is going to find out all the details about TPD's fuckup. No one threatens our brother, detective."

Ranger nodded his assent and said, "I believe you know where the door is, Morelli." Joe stood silently and walked toward the exit, staring at the floor in front of him. He was met by Ram on the other side and escorted from the building.

Back inside the conference room, emotions ranged from fury to indignation – the blatant use of Hector as bait by the Task Force did not sit well with any of them. Stephanie needed contact and reassurance that he was really okay, so she sat, rubbing small circles on Hector's back.

Ranger exhaled and said, "This just went from a recon mission to a _coup de main_. These fucking amateurs are looking to make a name for themselves by taking out our brother." He nodded at Hector. "We're pooling resources, men. I'm pulling in contract workers for the day-to-day here. I've got RMNY and RM Miami investigating where they can – KDC is relatively new and so far, discreet, so we're having some trouble gathering intel. We're working at trying to gather any leads from the Sureños and any bangers who bled out, see if they've heard anything. Our contacts are better, our researches are smarter and our men are braver than anyone on that motherfucking Task Force. We're the Varsity team here. This isn't impossible, and now failure is not an option."

Stephanie raised a hand and, when Ranger nodded towards her, said, "Not that I don't appreciate it, but why am I here?"

He looked at her sternly and said, "You are, effectively, on lockdown. You're Hector's partner so there's a possibility you'd be targeted as well. I needed you to see the severity of the situation so you wouldn't fight me on this."

Hector patted her hand and said, "He's right, _angelita_. No way are you putting yourself in danger. You stay here, where you're safe."

"But who'll have your six?" Steph asked weakly, tears brimming. Hector smiled and kissed her temple.

"I'm gonna have to go underground for a little bit." He said. Ranger nodded gravely; shuttling Hec between Rangeman and the Maras would be problematic, but sitting inside Rangeman, while a safe option, wouldn't eliminate the threat. Hector had to get out and network.

"Promise me you'll be careful. Promise you'll be okay." She whispered, and he hugged her tightly instead of answering.

Releasing her, he looked at Ranger and said, "I need to go take care of some personal stuff before I go." At Ranger's nod, he stood to exit. He was stopped by each of the men, his hand shaken heartily and his back clapped affectionately.

Hector made his way to his second floor apartment and, steeling himself, dialed a number he hadn't used before. When a lilting feminine voice answered, he took a breath and said, "Charlene? I could use your help, if you're available."

* * *

Charlene McGovern hung up her phone and immediately called the airport; normally she'd make the five-plus hour drive to New Jersey, but Hector told her that time was of the essence. She could reach Newark by plane in an hour and a half, and luckily there was a flight leaving within the hour. She grabbed her emergency overnight bag and dashed out the door, calling Vaughn at home in the city to ask him to pick her up. He was surprised and asked if all was well; she chose to keep things light and deftly avoided answering him.

When she de-boarded her plane, her son was waiting for her at baggage claim. Holding her single carry-on out, he nodded and they quickly made their way to his car.

"Want to tell me what's going on?" Vaughn attempted nonchalance but the worry in his voice was clear to Charlene. She smiled and patted his cheek, and said, "I'm not exactly sure, sweet boy, but we need to get to your sister's in Trenton."

"Is she okay?!" For Gia to call their mother, who lived almost six hours away, instead of him worried him immediately.

"I'm sure she is; Hector's asked me to come. He said he had some news that might affect us." Vaughn didn't reply, but he did grip the wheel tighter and increase his speed until they were flying along 95 toward Trenton.

_**At Gia's….**_

When Vaughn and Charlene arrived at Giana's, the house was lit up from the inside and the porch light was a welcoming beacon. The pair quickly made their way inside and were about to knock when Hector opened the door and ushered them inside. After greeting each other, the McGoverns immediately perched silently on the couch, giving Hector the floor. He ran through a brief overview of the KDC's activity, the threat they imposed, and the recent murder of Myra Costanza. Then he dropped his head and took a mighty, clarifying breath before beginning the hard part.

"Because I'm an ex-gang member and because I work for Rangeman, I'm being targeted for the next trophy killing." Vaughn's jaw tightened visibly and the women gasped. "Because of my….sort of dual status, this new Korean gang is trying to show how tough they are by taking me out; it's like saying that neither my gang, nor Rangeman can protect me from them. Because of that, I'm going to have to go to ground and stay off the radar while we try to find out where they're operating out of."

Here he looked remorsefully at the family sitting across from him. "I am truly sorry I brought this to your doorstep. My company is going to post a guard with each of you. Rangeman will make sure you are all safe until this is over, and after that I won't contact any of you again."

Giana and Charlene looked at each other in alarm, and Vaughn sat as though stunned; he didn't even look like he was drawing breath, staring at Hector with his jaw clenched tightly. A look of pure anguish flashed across his face before he closed his eyes and slowly started to shake his head.

It was Charlene who finally broke the silence. "Here's what's going to happen – you will carefully and cautiously, _and with plenty of help_, figure out what you need to know to stop these people." She rose from her place on the couch and walked away from her children and toward Hector. She knelt between his feet and looked up at him, not breaking eye contact. "And when that is done, you will call us and we will rejoice and Praise God that you are safe. We will go, as a family, and take Benediction in thanks. There will be no more talk of removing yourself from our lives. None!" She said sharply when Hector opened his mouth to protest. She waited until he closed his mouth before taking his large hand between her two small ones before continuing in a low voice Hector knew was meant only for him.

"You are precious to my son, and you are precious to me. You don't go through hardships on your own any more; you endure them with the support of your family." She paused again, waiting for Hector to acknowledge her statement. He swallowed past the lump in his throat before nodding, slowly.

She wrapped her arms around him, tightly, and pretended not to notice the jittering breath he drew in. When she felt him nod slightly, she drew back and asked, "When do you leave?"

He looked at Vaughn, who had so far remained silent. He wore a look of pain on his face from Hector's earlier offer to leave him; the ease with which Hector could withdraw himself from Vaughn's life had upset him greatly. "Tonight." He whispered, his voice full of sorrow.

"Then Giana and I will go now, to the Church, and start a vigil." She declared. While Gia was busy hugging Hector and whispering words of encouragement to him, she stepped over to Vaughn and, in a low voice, said, "I know you're upset, but we can deal with that later. He needs reassurance right now, darling boy." With a final kiss on the cheek, Charlene and Giana headed toward Gia's church to pray for Hector's safety and left he and Vaughn to say a private farewell.

* * *

On a private boat, docked at a small marina just outside of Jersey City, a clandestine meeting with a sinister purpose was taking place. A man the others referred to as Heun spoke in broken, halting English.

"To take down Gutierrez is not enough. We take him out, fine, that sends a message, but we need to make him bleed first. You shoot a tiger perched in a tree, you take home a tiger skin. You shoot it face-to-face, you become a legend."

The four other men in attendance nodded in silent agreement.

"But how do we wound the tiger effectively? If we choose the wrong target, we piss him off and we look incompetent." Heun continued. More nods followed, and a photograph was produced and passed around.

"Gutierrez has no family. He only has Rangeman. To take out Manoso would surely wound him, but it is unlikely we will get the opportunity. You will remember, we learned that he is partnered with Manoso's woman. _She_ is our trophy. We take her, we can take out two birds with one stone. We take their bitch and we will have the Maras and Manoso on their knees before us!" He finished triumphantly, amid cheers and laughs from the other men.

The Korean Dragon Crew had a plan – to take down an infamous rival gang member and the widely feared and legendary Ranger in one fell swoop. All they would need to do that was one small, brunette girl from Trenton, New Jersey.


	13. Chapter 13

_**A/n: This is going to be a transitional chapter – there's very little dialog in the first half. I'm not getting lazy, I just thought the story was better served by paving the plot for the next scene. I hope it reads as easy as I tried to write it.**_

A pall had been cast over Trenton, New Jersey. Myra Costanza was, if not beloved, at least a happy fixture in her neighborhood. Her death sent shockwaves through the community and planted the seed of fear in the heart of its citizens. If the wife of a police officer was susceptible to the invisible dangers out there, was anyone among them safe? The general herd-like mentality of the 'Burg residents was heightened greatly by poor Myra's abduction and murder and all the locals vowed to be even more vigilant than usual.

A neighborhood watch was organized in the living room of old Mrs. Markowitz, the Plum's neighbor. She worked up quite a sweat baking enough coffee cake for all the attendants, which was a good thing considering the entire neighborhood showed up. The local hardware store sold out of 60 watt bulbs because people flocked to stock up, wanting to ensure all their porch lights were burning bright. Motion sensor lights, a safety measure most 'Burg residents forewent because of the nuisance of stray cats and escaped dogs setting them off constantly, became standard in every home's back yard. Every strange parked car was reported to the police department, and vigilant neighbors wrote down each passing license plate number. The Kerner's had out of state visitors that nearly set the neighbors into a tailspin – the Pennsylvania plates on a strange car had every 'Burg dweller on high alert until Mr. Kerner spread the word that they were cousins from Philadelphia.

The people of Chambersburg took the loss of one of their own to violence very seriously, and since Trenton Police Department had no leads in the case – none that they were sharing, anyway – the inhabitants of the small hamlet took matters into their own hands. They felt notably safer, but not settled.

* * *

Rangeman, likewise, was extraordinarily circumspect both internally and externally. Giana, Vaughn, and Charlene all received guards, like Hector promised. Stephanie was strongly encouraged to remain inside the headquarters on Haywood Avenue and would be for the foreseeable future; every man that wasn't watching her was one more man available to keep looking for Hector's would-be assassins, a factor that encouraged Stephanie to mind her handlers. Every favor, every marker, had been called in and all angles were being investigated, but it was like the Koreans were smoke, ghosting in and out of whatever building they occupied. No one was able to get a bead on their location and a general pissed-off attitude permeated the building.

* * *

Hector had been holed up with a couple of his most trustworthy and discreet former Mara brothers, diligently searching for informants or connections that would clue them in to the person responsible for the ordered hit. At this point, they were unable to find even new recruits, which was puzzling since the newer, younger gang members were not generally known for being smart enough to evade capture or notice. It was too organized, too secretive…it felt less like gang activity and more like old-school mob activity.

While Ranger worked his overseas contacts for a clue as to who the leader was, Hector spent his hours in a windowless room with a secure door and a small arsenal in arm's reach, hacking databases and files to try and glean some sense of origin for this chapter of the Korean Dragon Crew. He longed to return to his everyday life; until recently, it hadn't been anything to speak of and under normal circumstances, it would make no difference where he worked from or how long. But knowing Vaughn was home, worried about him, with a guard posted to keep some fucking banger from killing him to send a message to Hector…well, he had a lot of guilt about all of it. However, he pressed onward, knowing that the sooner they eliminated the threat, the sooner he could return to a life he was growing to love very much.

* * *

Charlene, true to her word, had held a vigil that night, and each of the three nights since they were informed of this threat. She felt strongly that Hector would be fine, and she was rarely wrong about these things – she and God had had a very close relationship for a number of years now and she was fairly adept at hearing His voice when praying. Still, it didn't stop her from lighting candles and praying for Hector's safe delivery on the other side of this, nor did it stop her from daily reminding her children to do the same. Hector occupied a very special place in her heart; what mother wouldn't love the person who filled her child so completely, who grounded them and settled them? She owed Hector a debt of gratitude as far as she was concerned, and her daily pleas to her Savior were the least she could do.

There were currently two men rotating shifts with her, and they were both well-fed and cared for while in Charlene's employ. She insisted on cooking for them, it being 'the hospitable thing to do', and referred to them by their given names, rather than their professional nicknames. Snake and Junior, or Gary and Samuel, were in Virginia Beach for the duration with Charlene. The thought was that threat would be minimal, so they felt reasonably safe while dutifully following her about on errands and such. She was determined that this cloud hanging overhead would not affect her ability to be congenial, so they were spending a very comfortable few days guarding a very welcoming client.

* * *

Vaughn sat, sullen and cross, inside the studio space he used for composing. His writing partner had left, having lost her patience with him after he snapped at her for skipping a freshly written stanza, telling him to 'have a Coke and a smile and call me when you get the stick out of your ass!'. He was seated in his favorite overstuffed wingchair, arms folded tightly over his chest as he glared at the door. He knew that on the other side stood one of the men Hector assigned to keep him safe. He also knew, on some level, his bearish demeanor was fueled by his fear for Hector's safety, but by damn, he was well and good into his pout and he was going to ride it out. The way Vaughn saw it, being obstinate and grouchy was preferable to letting himself sink into a pile of worry and fear.

* * *

Giana accepted her 'safety companion', as she jokingly referred to the Rangemen who guarded her, with much more grace than her brother. She tried to stick to work and home as much as possible to alleviate the strain on Rangeman's resources. Hector had also requested that she allow Rangeman to install a few panic buttons inside her home that would alert the person on monitors at Haywood when pressed, and a security system. She readily agreed, eager to ease his mind.

Mindful of the manpower it took to keep her safe in the city at large, she shyly asked Stephanie one afternoon if Steph thought she might be able to use Rangeman's gym; her own had been deemed 'too hard to secure' and the lethargy was getting to her. Swimming was fine, but her pool was small and didn't allow for any lap swimming. Ranger gave her permission, and so the fourth day after Myra Costanza's death and the third after Hector left, Giana found herself in her most modest workout clothes in the gym at Rangeman, Trenton.

She was initially uncomfortable, seeing that she wasn't an employee and the gym had an entirely male population. Stephanie offered to work out with her, a generous bid to make her comfortable considering Steph _hated_ working out. Gia stretched next to Stephanie, who, she noted, groaned and winced a lot while warming up. Her professionalism took over and she helped Stephanie stretch individual muscle groups without straining them. Gia felt herself brighten; this was her forte. Physical therapy was something she loved and something she was good at, and resting on her laurels seemed to brighten her spirits. The two women jumped on the treadmill for a warm-up, Gia setting off at a brisk jog and Stephanie at a rambling walk. After 30 minutes, Stephanie was ready for a nap and Giana was ready for the weight machines. She managed to drag Steph over with her and set her up on the machine next to Lester's.

After standing to the side and helping Steph correct her posture and stance, Gia's attention drifted to the mats where Hal and Vince were sparring. Her eyes focused wholly on Hal and followed him across the mats, dissecting and closely observing him. When Stephanie finished her reps, she asked cheekily if Gia wanted an introduction. With a laugh and an embarrassed shake of her head, Giana explained, "No, it's a trade habit – his posture is bad and he's straining when he uses his right hip for support." while gesturing toward Hal with her head.

Bobby wandered up just in time to hear her comment, and called a time-out for the match. He gestured toward the mats, and with a "Shall we?" and a smile, guided Giana toward Hal.

Lester was broodingly silent as he observed their interaction, stoic as he watched Giana and Bobby lead Hal in a few range of motion exercises. He was uncomfortable with the jealousy burning deep in his belly, but knew he had no recourse in the matter…for now.

Stephanie placed her hand on his tricep and said, softly, "You doing okay there, Les?"

When he only nodded, she rolled her eyes and said, "Yeah, really convincing." She stood with him, shifting her weight from foot to foot and debating on whether or not to keep her big mouth shut, when Lester sighed almost inaudibly and said, "Go ahead, say whatever it is you're dying to say."

Debating on how to proceed, inspiration struck Stephanie and she said, solemnly, "I feel a shaking of the ground I stand on. The nature of life is not permanence, but flux. Things are changing." She met Lester's surprised expression head-on and said, "You can't be afraid to change, too, Les."

It took him a moment to find any words. "Geez, Beautiful, that was…beautiful."

She nodded, somberly before saying, "Carson said it last week on 'Downton Abbey.'"

Les gaped at her, then threw his head back and laughed. That was so, so…_Stephanie_, to quote a TV show to make her point and actually have it make sense. He looked at her and affectionately asked, "Do you really believe that? That changing is just that easy?" He didn't ask rhetorically; he was genuinely curious about her answer. He was also amused that this was the second quote a friend had thrown at him recently. He wondered, sardonically, if he needed to start paying royalties for the advice he was getting.

Stephanie snorted. "Nope. Changing is hard and sometimes it sucks. But if you don't change the limits you've imposed on yourself, Vince is going to go after your girl." And here she nodded towards the mats. Gia was showing Hal an exercise to strengthen a small muscle group in his lower back and Vince was blatantly staring at her ass.

All humor bled out of him in an instant and Lester stalked forward to stand imposingly in Vince's line of sight, leaving a widely grinning Stephanie behind him. He waited, silent and ominous, until Giana was through talking with Hal. When Bobby asked if she thought the men could benefit from an

PT assessment, she shrugged one shoulder.

"You're the medic; I only noticed Hal favoring the one leg. I'm happy to help you assess everyone if you think it would help." She offered.

Bobby mulled it over for a moment. "I think it wouldn't hurt; we tend to focus on physical ability and not always on physical wellness here." He said sheepishly. "We're men. We're taught at an early age to suck it up."

Gia rolled her eyes and said, "No shit. If the patients I treat, _who are all ex-military_, would just tell me what hurts the first time I asked, it would make my life a lot easier."

Les chuffed and said, "My _abuelo_ used to tell me, 'If you're not barfing or bleeding, you're fine'." Gia laughed, turning toward Les and effectively shutting Vince out of the conversation. Lester was equally pleased at her amusement and at the scowl on Vince's face.

"Ooh, little Lester stories! Is _abuelo_ free for lunch?" she teased.

Les smiled and shook his head. "He passed away about 11 years ago."

Gia flushed and closed her eyes in mortification. "Of course he did. I'm sorry, I should have thought before I spoke." She murmured.

Lester smiled a sweet smile at her as inspiration struck him – a chance to spend a little time with Giana, with no distractions. He said, "It's no problem; I like talking about my grandfather. But if you're finished here, I can take you home and take the next shift." She needed coverage anyway, and volunteering was a sure way to whisk her away from Vince and had the added bonus of sharing downtime with her.

At her grateful nod and smile, Les said, "Wait here for me; I'm going to grab a change of clothes and check in with the front desk." Emboldened by her earlier teasing and wanting to ensure Vince **got the fucking message**, Lester lowered his voice and asked her, "Okay if I shower at your place?" and was pleased when she squeaked out a 'sure' while turning a bruising shade of red.

Ten minutes later, they were belted into Lester's GT and headed toward her home.

"I'm surprised Ranger has a sports car in his fleet." She mused, running her fingers over the soft leather of the seats.

"This isn't a Rangeman car, this one's mine. I like a car with a lot of power. Your little rice burner is cute, though." He winked at her and was gratified, again, by the slight flush of her cheeks and her chuckle. He wondered….feigning a misjudged grab for the gear shifter, he let his hand graze hers and felt the same _zing_ he'd felt the very first time he heard her voice. He chose to ignore the warning bells clanging in his head, singing _Hector! Hector!_ and just revel in this moment, in being enclosed in his car with the only woman he found himself wanting to spent time with in recent months. With mild surprise, he realized how long it had been since he picked up a woman at a bar or called any of the women he normally used to relieve his tension.

He was pulled out of his reverie when Gia said, "My little Acura may not have 550hp, but it's zippy and cute." She nodded decisively and stuck her tongue out at Lester when he laughed at her.

After disabling her alarm and ensuring that the house was still sound, Lester escorted Giana inside the house. They made their way to the two separate bathrooms with minimal awkwardness. As Lester stood under the pounding water, he remembered with clarity the way Gia looked while stretching in the Rangeman gym. With a soft groan, he decided to take the edge off so he wouldn't be distracted all evening. He gripped himself tightly and dropped his head, visions of the woman who was currently also showering less than 30 feet away from him flashing through his mind.

After Lester exited the shower, his nose led him to the kitchen where Gia was feeding halved lemons into a machine.

"Juicer." She explained. "I thought I'd make us chicken piccata. Is that okay?"

Lester smiled and nodded gratefully. "Sounds perfect. Definitely better than the cup o' noodles I had planned." He wrinkled his nose for effect and offered to help.

After instructing him to wash and slice some red peppers and broccoli for the steamer, she returned to their earlier playful banter.

"So you're getting dinner; do I get a show?" she asked, smiling. Upon seeing Lester's lascivious grin, she rolled her eyes and flipped her dish towel toward him.

"Mind out of the gutter, Santos! I was hoping for a funny story, an anecdote, some dirt I can use on Tate later…" She made a 'come on with it!' motion and, for once, Lester opted for levity over humor.

"You asked about my grandfather earlier." Gia flicked a glance at him and nodded. "My grandfather's name was Mateo. Mateo Luis Santos. He came over, from Cuba, on a small raft with 42 other people, hoping for asylum from Batista. He was a smart man, involved in politics and educated as much as a laborer could be, and he knew that Castro's takeover was imminent. So he fled.

"He arrived in Florida, made his way to Miami and married white girl on vacation with her family from Kentucky. Met, married, whole deal in under two months. Her family was furious and disowned her, of course, for marrying a Cuban immigrant. My _abuelo_ wasn't married long, a little under two years, when his wife died in childbirth. My mother was his only child; he never remarried."

Gia reached across the counter and covered Lester's hand with hers.

"I'm sorry; that's so tragic. He must have been crushed. What was her name, do you mind me asking?"

Lester raised his eyes to hers and held her gaze, unblinking.

"Joan." His voice was thick, low. "Her name was Joan. The Americanized version of 'Giana'."

Her soft intake of breath broke the silence as Lester let this information sink in. It was a bit of trivia he'd been turning over in his mind for a while; he wasn't sure what made him share it now. The significance of _this_ woman sharing the name of a grandmother he'd never known, whose love held his revered grandfather captive for his entire life and made impossible the option of him ever remarrying, held such a myriad of emotions for Lester that he hadn't yet felt able to delve into them.

He smiled and patted her hand with his free one reassuringly, then released it so she could return to her cooking. He cleared his throat to continue and did his utmost to ignore the bereft feeling of his hand, naked without hers to cover it.

"He was a good man. He was granted citizenship after my grandmother died, since their child was an American and there was no one else to take her. He wasn't able to find work – he painted a prettier picture when I was small, but Miami in the 50s? Immigrants were disposable. So, he joined the Army. He chose to defend the country he loved, the one who didn't want him here, and left my mother with his family in Miami."

"So he's a hero, like you." Gia offered softly, keeping her eyes on the simmering dish in front of her. She had learned through her practice and work experience that most military men were taught to downplay the importance of the role they assumed, and she guessed Les wouldn't be an exception.

He simply scoffed and shook his head. "_Abuelo was_ a hero. He was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross." There was no small amount of satisfaction in Lester's voice, Gia noted.

"When Ranger and I were kids, he used to let us hold his medal. We thought that was the coolest thing." Les smiled, remembering. "I think it fed the need to be successful in the Army later in life. Ric used to tell me he was going to have a medal like that someday, and I thought he was implying he was going to take _Abuelo's_ medal. I took a nail and scratched my name into the back of the cross one day so Ric would never have it."

Giana sucked in a breath through her teeth and winced; Les nodded and said, "Yup. Got the hiding of a lifetime for that. But my grandfather told me later – much later – that he was actually touched that I wanted to keep it so much I marked it. It was the thing he was proudest of so I placed a lot of value in it."

"You must be so proud of him; he sounds like he was a good man, Les." She said, smiling warmly at her dinner companion.

Les nodded thoughtfully. "He was. He made it out of the Army alive, though he shouldn't have. He walked through a minefield, carrying two men across his shoulders and came out the other side with two bullets in his thigh from enemy fire." Lester had gained access to his grandfather's military records, thanks in large part to Hector, and the situation was unreal. The confirmed active minefield was impossible to cross, a fact undisputed by anyone, yet Mateo Santos had passed through it without setting off a single bomb.

"How'd he manage that?" Gia asked as she plated their dinner. Her voice clearly showed her awe, and Lester once again felt his heart warm in tender affection for this woman. They settled at the table before Les answered her.

"No idea. _Abuelo_ says he wrapped his rosary beads around his wrist and recited the Lord's Prayer while he crossed the field. He always believed, without question, that an angel guided him safely across."

"And you don't believe that?" She asked.

Lester shrugged and said, "I don't know. I believe my grandfather was a good man. He joined the military to take care of my mother when he didn't have to. He supported his family with his paychecks. He risked his life to save two men in a minefield. He took care of me when my mom dumped me on his doorstep 5 days out of 7 so she could go party, and he took me in permanently after she left me with him and never came back for me when I was eleven. So if anyone deserved to have an angel guarding him…yeah. I guess I do believe it." Surprise colored his voice. They finished dinner in companionable silence, breaking the quiet to comment only on the mundane.

After clearing the dishes, Gia offered Lester wine, which he regretfully declined, citing the fact that he was currently on duty, and invited him to make himself at home. He wandered into the living room and, grinning, grabbed the photo album he recognized from the drunken girl's night last weekend.

"Are these the pictures of Mark you guys were looking at?" he called toward the kitchen. Gia popped her head out and grinned when she saw the album.

"They are. There are some good ones in there; why do you think he's so nice to me? Threat of blackmail." She winked and joined him on the couch, and they spent a fun fifteen minutes flipping through the album. Finished, Lester reached for the next binder and Gia spent a happy few minutes explaining the timeline of the photos – Vaughn playing piano at their family home as a teenager, Charlene hugging a man that Gia explained was her father, and 'the baby', Richard, playing peewee baseball.

Next came a page that housed several pictures of her extended family.

"Aunt Nancy, mom's sister." She stated, pointing to an attractive brunette that Les guessed was in her mid-to-late 40s. "She's a tomcat. Likes younger men, always moving with one guy or another." Gia rolled her eyes, not amused. "She and Vaughn are close but I'm not a big fan. I was closer to Uncle Carl." Here, she pointed to a picture of a younger man with red hair.

"He passed when Diya and Dev –" she gestured toward two dark skinned young teenagers, both with beautiful bright eyes and blindingly white teeth "- were around 10. His wife took them back to India so we didn't see them until they moved here for college. Diya's studying at Ole' Miss; she's working on an organic food preservative now, it's pretty neat. And Dev is at NYU." Les nodded, vaguely remembering this story from their first Shorty's night together.

She turned the page and made a face, then removed a photo of Dev smiling next to a good-looking Indian man wearing trendy black-framed eyeglasses. "I forgot this was in here." She murmured, went to fold the photo in half to cut the offending man out of the picture.

"Who is that?" Les asked, shooting for casual and crossing his fingers that the stab of jealousy didn't seep through his voice.

"An ex." She said shortly, then rolled her eyes. "He was – is – a friend of Dev's. He was finishing his financing degree when Dev was starting. Dev introduced us, we dated a while, he got rich and dumped me for a bigger set of boobs. The idiot still calls every once in a while to hint that he wouldn't mind a booty call." She rolled her eyes and inserted the picture, with the ex now hidden, back into the album.

"Do you need me to talk to him?" Les growled. She smiled and shook her head, patting his knee.

"Thanks, but no. He's not dangerous, he's just an ass. Ravi was lauded as some financial wiz kid so he's got an inflated ego." She waved a hand dismissively and closed the album, asking if he needed anything before they turned in. The guest room had fresh sheets, she reminded him, in case he got tired. After bidding her good night, Les watched her hips sway as she made her way down the hall toward her bedroom and relaxed into the couch, reclining his head and closing his eyes.

_So, _he mused, _there's a rich ex-boyfriend in the city that's still after Giana. She doesn't seem like the type to be impressed by money…but neither did Michelle._

He shook his head harshly, as though flinging unwanted thoughts off. Giana wasn't Michelle; the two were nothing alike. Still, a small, suspicious, and ugly part of him whispered, _You sure about that? You were fooled once before. She could be a heartless liar who wants to use you for sex and money, just like Michelle._

Les pinched the bridge of his nose and did a few breathing exercises to center himself. Thinking of that awful bitch always put him in a foul mood, and he wanted desperately to stave it off. Besides his past – his dark and checkered past – this was the other reason he'd tried to avoid growing attached to Gia. She was a good person, deserving of a man who could trust her totally. Lester had an inherent distrust of women and doubted it would ever change. After his mother abandoned him and after his first love…well, after Michelle, he decided and had been well served with the philosophy that women were unilaterally untrustworthy.

Still, it wouldn't hurt to look into this guy, to make sure he wasn't a threat to Giana. Ravi…even with only a first name, it shouldn't be hard to locate him in the city and just check to ensure he wasn't crazy. _Or still in love with your girl, _the hateful voice whispered.

With a sigh, Lester stood and let himself out of the house, locking Gia tightly inside while he checked the perimeter.

_***The ****Distinguished Service Cross** is the second highest military award that can be given to a member of the United States Army for extreme gallantry and risk of life in actual combat with an armed enemy force. I'm not from a military family so I wasn't familiar with military medals and their meanings, but it's an extremely interesting topic to research if anyone is so inclined._


	14. Chapter 14

_**A/n: Y'all...81 reviews, 41 follows, and almost 6k views. This is beyond cool; I feel like I should be typing while wearing aviator shades and sipping expensive scotch. Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed - I've become one of those people who HAS to check their email as soon as the notification pings. I love reading them...so with that in mind, as soon as I hit 90 reviews, I'll post Chapter 15 (yes, it's written and it's been to my lovely Beta). And I've also made a cyber friend on this very website, she's been such a huge cheerleader and she's writing my all-time favorite story in the 50 Shades realm of FanFiction; if you a fan, WriterDi authors 'After the Fall', it's bitchin'.**_

_**Thanks for reading!**_

The day of Myra Costanza's memorial service was overcast and muggy, and a light, misty rain fell the majority of the morning. Stephanie stood in front of the mirror inside her walk-in closet, contemplating two different black dresses. She nearly jumped out of her skin when two mocha hands came to rest on her shoulders.

"Geez, Ranger, make some noise! One of these days you're – mmmm…Stop! I'm getting dressed for a wake, for cryin' out loud!" she huffed, pretending to be indignant. Ranger only smiled and lifted the dress she had been leaning toward wearing from the hanger.

"This one." He said before kissing her neck and pulling his own shirt over his head.

Stephanie was just putting the finishing touches on her makeup when she heard Ranger's cell phone go off. He answered with his standard "Yo.", and immediately his posture stiffened. His eyes immediately found Stephanie's, who froze and held her breath, waiting for an implication as to what the call was about.

"You're sure?...Who was the source?...It's verified?...Be ready to roll in 10." He hung up turned toward the closet, suiting up for the field.

Stephanie stomped over and said, "Well?", hands on her hips. No way was he just sliding out with no explanation.

Ranger turned to her while buckling his utility belt and said, "We've got a lead, a good one. That was Hector; one of the recruits saw some Asian guys going in and out of a warehouse in Linden, near the docks. He thought they were using it for storage, but noted a few big crates being moved in. Big enough to hold a lot of guns."

Stephanie took a deep breath and said, "So this is the break we've been waiting for. Hector can come home if you end this." His dazzling smile was all the answer she needed, and she threw her arms around him and squeezed him tightly. When he stepped away to lace his boots, she selected some modest black pumps and stepped into them. She raised her eyes to Ranger, intent on telling him to be careful, and saw his blank face in place.

"What?" she asked. She glanced down at herself. The dress was funeral appropriate, she mused, so she looked back at him and said, "What?"

"Babe."

"Uh uh, Ranger, you can't double-whammy me and expect anything back. The blank face and the one-word answer? What's the problem?"

"You're not going." He said, curtly, and continued holstering his weapons.

Stephanie liked to think of herself as a logical person. She was, admittedly, quick to anger, but she thought she was also a fair judge of situations that some found overwhelming. So, she tried counting backwards from ten. When that didn't work, she opted for a cleansing breath. Still not finding peace, she decided to go ahead and flip out.

"I most certainly AM going. We discussed this; I've known Carl since we were kids. His wife was killed, I have to be at that wake, Carlos. If the bad guys are close to Newark, I'm safe going to a funeral here in Trenton. You can't make this decision for me. I'm going." She stated.

"It's not safe."

"It's perfectly –"

"Goddammit, Stephanie, will you listen to me for ONCE?!" Ranger pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled, eyes closed. When he opened them, he saw his wife with her eyes wide open, trying not to cry. He stepped forward and wrapped her in a hug, kissing her face over and over.

"They killed Costanza's wife. Just took her out of her own house and strangled her. If anything happened to you, I would kill them all and then I would die. I don't want to live in a world where you don't exist. I can't chance it, Babe, especially not without a guard." They had discussed, at length, a Rangeman showing at Myra's service and decided it was in poor taste, considering the TPD and Rangeman's uncivil parting over the Joint Task Force. Tensions were running high between the police and the Rangemen, and Steph argued that a group of Merry Men seen there would cause bad feelings amongst what was sure to be a strong showing from TPD. Stephanie had planned to go with Giana, accompanied only by Ranger, who would wait outside. Gia offered to go to be a buffer on the off chance that any of the cops became confrontational with Stephanie.

Stephanie relaxed into his embrace and hugged back. "I feel the same way, Carlos." She murmured against his chest. "Would it be alright with you if we took one of the new hires? I'll wear all my trackers and panic buttons, I swear." She tilted her head back and pleaded with her big blue eyes. When she heard her husband sigh, she knew she'd be able to pay her last respects, after all.

Ranger said, "You wear your watch. It has GPS and a panic button, you remember?" She nodded. "I want you to wear the earrings I got you last Valentines, they've got a chip embedded in the posts. You take your gun. You go straight there and come straight back. You follow protocol for entering and exiting the car and building. Agreed?"

She nodded eagerly and they exited seven, hand in hand. They rode to five and exited to find a team assembled, dressed identically to Ranger. As he began barking last minute orders, Stephanie took the opportunity to hug a few of the men and tell them to be careful. After Ranger ordered Roy, one of the new recruits, to drive 'Mrs. Manoso' to her engagement, he grabbed Stephanie and bent her nearly in half, kissed the lipstick off of her, and left en masse with the rest of the men.

Stephanie sighed and said, "All righty, Roy, let's rock and roll."

"Where to, Mrs. Manoso?" He asked as he held the elevator doors for her.

Stephanie wrinkled her nose and said, "Ugh. Call me Stephanie, or Steph. Not Mrs. Manoso, alright?" When Roy didn't answer, she glared at him and said, "You're going to keep calling me 'Mrs. Manoso', aren't you?"

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

After picking Giana up, they made their way to Stiva's. It was, as expected, packed to the gills. Stephanie felt herself tearing up as they parked, grateful for the outpouring of support for Crazy Carl. After allowing Roy to escort them inside, Stephanie was immediately approached by Grandma Mazur.

Edna Mazur was wearing a skin tight black nylon body suit, which accentuated her scrawny frame and low hanging, sagging breasts with disturbing clarity. She covered it with an open, loose fitting cardigan and a short flared skirt at her waist. She clacked her dentures and said, "Boy, this is some turnout! I haven't seen a crowd this big since that Bucky Biablocki got crushed by that elephant he was following in that tiny Shriners car. Those Shriners always have a good turnout, but this is something else!"

After kissing her grandmother and introducing her to Giana and Roy, Grandma asked Giana if she could ask her a question, woman to woman. Gia nervously nodded, and when Grandma asked if it was true about redheads' carpets, Stephanie intervened.

Grandma shook her head and said, "I never really did understand what that meant, I was hoping she could enlighten me on account of she's a redhead. So you never heard the rumor?" She asked a now scarlet Giana, who shook her head frantically and asked where Carl was at so they could pay their respects.

"They've got Myra in Slumber Room 2, I'd imagine he's in there. I gotta go, they were supposed to bring out more cookies. You should always wait for the first tray to go before you snack, they wait to lay out the really good cookies after everyone's stuffed themselves with the cheap ones." She advised Giana and Roy before puttering away.

Roy looked awestruck and said, "That's your grandmother?" When Stephanie nodded, he muttered, "Geez, I thought the guys were pulling my chain. Like, hazing me."

Stephanie sighed and said, "Let's go find Carl and then we can head out." Her companions dutifully followed her and they made their way to Myra's casket. Ranger never had told her the details of how Myra had been found, and she found herself thanking him silently. Hugging Carl while picturing how poor Myra had been 'arranged'…Stephanie shuddered at the thought.

After spending a few tearful moments with a tired looking Carl, reminiscing and consoling him, she stepped away to allow the other mourners their moment with him. Stephanie spotted Joe across the room, and he looked downright miserable when he caught the scathing look she shot him. _Good_, she thought. He didn't deserve forgiveness. If anything had happened to Hector because Joe hadn't warned them, she thought she could easily have killed him. Stephanie knew Joe's job was very important to him; she just hadn't known how important.

After allowing Roy to lead them to the car, Stephanie and Gia buckled in and settled back.

"Hey, how about we hit the bakery? If I ever needed a donut, it's today." Stephanie said wistfully. Roy kept driving like he hadn't heard anything.

"Roy? Earth to Roy, hello? Listen, I know Ranger said straight there and straight back, but could we maybe take one eensy detour? I'll buy you contraband and I swear I won't tell Ranger!" Stephanie sang cheekily, hoping to elicit a response. When Roy still didn't acknowledge her, Steph's Spidey Sense started to kick in. She glanced uneasily at Giana; Gia returned the look with a wary glance of her own.

Giana tried next. "Hey, Roy, would you mind pulling over at the deli? I'd like to pick up some fruit and I need to use the restroom." Nothing. The two women shared another worried glance, and just as Steph was about to demand he at least answer them, her phone rang.

Pulling it out of her purse, she answered with a "Yo! Everything go okay?". No sooner were the words out of her mouth than Roy picked up speed.

"Where are you?" Ranger's reply was terse, uneasy.

"Heading back to Rangeman with Mr. Congeniality. Hey, slow down, Roy, this is a residential section!" Steph snapped. She figured if she scolded him while Ranger could hear, he might lay off whatever trip he was on. Roy ignored her and, if anything, increased his speed slightly.

She could hear Ranger barking orders on the phone as her Spidey Sense was now clanging loudly. She saw Giana reach into her own purse and slid a small pistol out, eyes not leaving Roy's face.

"Babe, listen, I need you to stay calm. If he stops the car, get out and run. I've got trackers on you and I'm going to get there as quickly as I can." His voice, while calm, held an undertone of anger and fear. Stephanie suddenly felt terrified.

Roy floored it and they shot forward at an alarming speed. Stephanie blurted, "We're headed east on Klockner –" before Roy backhanded her and snatched the phone from her hand. He then flung it out the window, all without taking his eyes off the road.

Giana immediately raised her gun and said, "Stop. The Fucking Car. Asshole." Through gritted teeth. She was shaking and Stephanie found herself scrambling to retrieve her own gun.

Roy laughed mirthlessly, the first time he'd opened his mouth since the funeral home, and said, "You shoot me going 70 down a side street, they're going to bury you in a shoebox, sweetheart. Besides, I'm as good as dead if I let you go, so do what you gotta do."

The two women, now thoroughly terrified, shared another long glance. Both kept their guns at the ready, waiting for the car to slow enough to bail out.

"Child locks are on. I engaged them at the funeral home." Roy said smugly, as if reading their minds.

"What is this? Why are you taking us? You know Ranger's going to find me and he'll be pissed, right?" Stephanie blathered. She'd been in tight situations before, and she found that keeping a dialog going more often than not kept her captors distracted.

"It's not Ranger they're lookin' to piss off, sweet tits." He sang. He sounded out of his head with either joy or adrenaline now, and neither option was less scary than the other.

"Who, then?" Stephanie demanded. She risked a glance at Giana; she had her cell phone at her side, furiously texting someone while trying to keep her eyes up.

"Your partner, Señor Psychopath. It's gonna be a biiiiig to-do." Roy crowed. "See, if they can get to him after they got to the cop's wife –"

"You're taking us to the guy's who killed Myra Costanza?" Stephanie interrupted. The feeling of dread flooded her stomach and she felt tears prick her eyes. Gia, too, was ghostly pale and wore a look of horror on her face.

When Roy only nodded, Giana croaked, "I thought they were after Hec?"

"He's the target, but they want to use the Boss Lady here to send him a message. They gonna use you to let him know he'll never be safe before they take him."

Roy began slowing down and Gia began tapping out a text at warp speed. They were approaching an old industrial park of some kind. There was an 8-foot fence surrounding the buildings and barbed wire woven through the top. It had clearly been empty for some time, judging by the broken windows and equipment that had been stripped to the bare bones, and the women's sense of dread heightened considerably. The gates slid slowly open as the car approached, and Stephanie gave a last-ditch effort to save them.

"If you take us back, I swear I'll have Ranger hide you from them. You can start over somewhere fresh, you can get out of all this. It's not too late, Roy."

Roy snorted. "You have no idea what th–" Roy was cut off by the sound of a gunshot, and then the entire front passenger side was coated with what had formerly been the inside of Roy's head. The women screamed and scrambled to open the doors as the car drifted toward a stripped backhoe.

"Hold on!" Giana cried, and they braced for impact. Seconds after the car crashed into the equipment, the doors were wrenched open and the women were yanked out by the backs of their dresses and relieved of their guns. Stephanie scrambled to gain her footing and raised her head in time to see Giana head-butt an Asian man squarely in the face. He screamed and dropped her, and she made it all of two feet before another man grabbed her. Stephanie did a quick scan of her surroundings and saw 8 men, a large empty industrial park, and zero surrounding houses or businesses.

The women were ushered inside the nearest building and unceremoniously shoved into an office.

"Do you have your phone?" She hissed at Giana.

"Nope. It flew out of my hands when the car crashed. I was trying to text Hec and tell him what was going on." She murmured, dejectedly.

Stephanie scanned herself, taking quick inventory. Purse? Gone. Gun? Gone. Aches and pain? Manageable. Weapons?...

"_Thank you, Carlos!_" she whispered. She knew the trackers were working, but remembered the panic button on her watch face. She pressed it repeatedly while whispering to Giana, explaining what she was doing.

Their relief lasted all of two seconds before the door was wrenched open and they were frog-marched at gun point to a smelly, dank room. It was empty, save for two pipes coming out of the ceiling in the center of the room. They were cuffed, back to back, and left in a sitting position. After hearing the tell-tale sound of a deadbolt being shot, the two sat in silence for a few moments.

"Steph?" Gia whispered. "Can you pick a lock?"

"Yeah, but I need something to pick it with. Hec and I worked on it for weeks when we partnered, but I need a pin or something. Why?"

"I grabbed two paper clips from that office. I know Hector can do it, I thought I'd take a chance." Gia whispered, sliding the clips into Steph's hand. "Careful, I can't see what I'm doing."

Blessing her forethought, Stephanie made quick work of her own handcuffs and then freed Gia. The assessed the room and immediately made their way to the single, painted over window.

"No bars." Steph murmured. "But how far up is it?"

Gia used her unlocked cuff to scratch away some of the paint and peered outside. "Looks like there's a scaffolding of a catwalk or something running under the window. I can't see where it goes, though."

Steph chewed her lip a moment and said, "Ranger's on his way. I just don't know how far away they all were so it could be a while…but we're sitting ducks here. We go."

Quickly agreeing on a plan of action, the women counted to three and wrenched the window up. Stephanie was boosted through, and turned to pull Gia up and out. Almost immediately, they heard the men below shouting in a foreign language. They darted to the left and scooted as quickly as possible along the narrow scaffolding. As they rounded in corner, both women whimpered in despair. The walway they'd been running along ended abruptly. They were trapped.

"There!" Giana cried, pointing to a building about 15 feet lower than where they were currently standing. They could feel the vibrations of the men on the scaffolding, coming after them.

"It's too far!" Stephanie said, panicking at the thought of jumping. Gia skirted around her, took a deep breath, and made a fantastic leap, landing in a heap on the building's roof. She shakily stood up and hissed, "Do it, now! This building is only a couple stories high, we can probably make it to the ground!"

Taking a shaky breath, Stephanie leapt and braced herself for impact, rolling at the last second, the way Hector taught her during their sparring sessions. Gia yanked Stephanie to her feet and they raced to the edge of the building, looking for a way down.

They heard loud voices and glanced back up in time to see one of their captors preparing to make the same leap they'd made only moments before.

"Shit!" Gia screamed and yanked Stephanie toward the opposite end of the roof, racing around the chained access door. There, on the other side, was an adjacent building. An old, rusted fire escape hung from the side. Not steps or a landing like Stephanie's old apartment building housed; instead, this was a single ladder embedded in the brick's building with steel rings encasing the rungs and forming a sort of tunnel, big enough for a person to climb through. They ran for all they were worth toward the ladder, and it hit Stephanie all at once.

"It's too high, we can't reach that!" she panted.

"I'm going to boost you and you'll turn and grab me, just like how we got through that window." Giana sounded so sure that Stephanie believed, for a few blissful moments, that this would all turn out fine.

They hit the wall without slowing, mindful of the two loud thumps behind them indicating two more men had made the leap. Gia squatted, fingers laced, and just as Steph stepped onto her had Giana gave a groan and shoved upward. Stephanie's hands shot skyward and she cried, "I still can't reach it!"

She looked down at Giana, who held her feet at chest level. With a terse, "Grab it!", she pushed her arms up and lifted Steph's feet over her head. Stephanie grabbed the lowest rung and, bracing her feet against the brick, climbed up until she could securely hook her arm through the steel ring barrier and stretched toward Gia. She risked a glance back; the first man had rounded the access door and was barreling toward them.

"Oh, God, you have to jump!" She screamed at Gia, stretching as far as she could.

It was no use. There was no possible way to reach the ladder without a spotter, and Stephanie watched in horror as the Asian man reached Gia and slammed her into the brick wall. She slumped to the ground and Stephanie screamed, reaching for the gun that wasn't holstered at her hip today.

A great crash distracted everyone as a convoy of black SUVs drove right though the gate.

"Oh, thank God." Steph breathed shakily, and hoisted herself upright. She climbed the ladder as quickly as possible, and, reaching the roof, began screaming and waving her arms, trying to get the Merry Men's attention. She needed help, like, yesterday.

A new noise, different from the crashing fence or the shouts from her friends, drew her attention. It was the purr of a high performance engine, and for a moment, Stephanie dazedly thought, "Why did Ranger bring the Turbo?" before her confusion turned to panic. Over the edge of the building, she could make out 3 white sports cars, idling, waiting. She wasn't a car enthusiast, but she knew what kind these were – the kind that were fucking fast. In the periphery of her vision, a movement caused her to snap her head around, and what she saw made her feel faint.

The three men who'd chased them across two buildings were running toward the side of the roof where the cars were parked below, and they were carrying an unconscious Giana with them.

Stephanie scrambled toward the edge of the roof and down the ladder, but before her feet hit the roof of the building below her she heard the tell-tale whine of a sports car being floored and a saw a cloud of dust. Screaming at them to stop, she ran to the building's edge in time to see them speeding along a narrow access road. Giana was nowhere to be seen.

Arms encircled her, and Stephanie whirled, letting her training take over. She disabled her attacker with a few well-placed punches and a knee to the groin before running blindly across the roof. It was only when she was tackled and her head held stationary that she registered that it was Bobby Brown who had her.

"Stephanie! Bomber, it's me, stop kicking!" When she finally stilled, gasped, and started sobbing, Bobby gathered her up and pressed the button for the microphone that was pinned at his shoulder. "I've got Bomber." He said in a sharp staccato, making his way to the building's edge.

Stephanie shoved her way out of his arms and pressed the mic button, leaning in and shouting, "Get back in the cars, they took her, they knocked her out and took her, they're driving fast white cars and they left through the back-"

"Who, Beautiful?" Lester asked, limping over from the spot where Stephanie had dropped him moments earlier. If that knee got anywhere near his balls again, he figured he could kiss the idea of ever fathering children goodbye.

Her answer made his blood run cold.

"_Giana._"


	15. Chapter 15

_**A/n: I don't know what's going on, but I'm only getting sporadic alerts when I get a review and an email notice didn't go out until 9 hours after I posted the last chapter. I also got a review email and it didn't show up on the story, so I'm calling it 90 reviews even and posting today. Thanks for taking the time to review, they are all very much appreciated.**_

_(A recap: after murdering Myra Costanza, the KDC targeted Hector as their next trophy kill, a fact that was discovered first by TPD and then Rangeman. What Rangeman and TPD didn't know was Stephanie was also a target whose kidnapping was intended to show both Hector and Ranger that they were vulnerable. Stephanie managed to escape; Giana was not so lucky.)_

* * *

**One hour after the kidnapping…**

To the untrained observer, the men of Rangeman were efficient to an astonishing degree. The speed with which they debriefed, pooled resources and mobilized would have most Army commanders salivating and dreaming up new drills. Today was no exception, and as the men rushed around silently, tensely, suiting up for the field, they were the very epitome of cool and collected.

However.

The familiar, skilled observer could detect the cracks forming. They might notice the bruise developing around their leader's eye, or the thunderous look on his wife's face. They might also glean some insight into the undercurrent of emotion coursing through Rangeman if they could meet the homicidal glint in Hector's eyes as he plotted the demise of the men who stole one of the two women he'd ever loved, or the fierce warrior's stance that Lester assumed as he stood over the only lead they had – the baby banger who gave Hector the tip about the Asians moving crates at the dock in Linden.

And they might be equal parts thrilled and disturbed at the lengths these people were willing to go to get Giana McGovern back safe and sound.

* * *

"I need a name." The voice was eerily devoid of emotion. When no answer followed, he took the pinky finger of the man tied to the chair between his hands.

_Snap._ Screaming.

"Fuck! That hurts, shit that HURTS!"

Lester moved his hands to the man's next finger and asked again in the same detached manner, "Name."

The man – he was more kid than man, Lester thought dispassionately, with the faint fuzz on his upper lip and the babyish roundness that hadn't yet left his cheeks – had a thin sheen of sweat covering his now pasty face. His breathing was rapid, verging on hyperventilation, and his wide eyes were trained on his own hand as Lester gripped his ring finger, preparing to break it next.

"I told you, I don't have a name! It was just a favor, man, just a favor for a bitch, I didn't mean nothin'-"

_Snap. _Screaming.

"STOP, STOP, STOP…Christ, that hurts!" The kid shrieked. Juan Diaz, age 18, street name 'Lizard', had been drilled since the age of 15 to never give up information about his gang. Let them torture you, let them beat on you – death before dishonor. It was all well and good in theory, a principle that governed the life of a gang banger…but put into practice, Lizard was suddenly having trouble remembering why he thought joining Mara-18 had ever been a good idea.

Lester's hands moved deftly to the kid's middle finger when the door to the holding room in Rangeman's basement swung open. The kid went from pasty to white and promptly puked down his shirt.

Hector Gutierrez stood in the doorway, illuminated by the hallway lights. He stalked slowly into the room, followed by Ranger and Bobby. Bobby broke an ammonium tablet under Lizard's nose and the kid snapped to attention, his wide, terrified eyes focused on Hector.

Hec lowered himself so he was eye to eye with the kid. "You know who I am?" he asked softly.

Frantic nodding from a still unblinking Lizard.

Hector held a piece of paper up in front of the kid. "The address of your mother's home. Your brother, in Philadelphia. Your _abuela_, in Queens. Your _puta_ girlfriend lives in an apartment above a pawn shop in Linden. And the banger you're fucking on the side lives with his girlfriend at this address." Hector said, pointing to the last address on the sheet. He waited silently as the kid tried, unsuccessfully, to swallow. Hector leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "You give me a name or I'm going to start visiting the people on my list."

Lizard hesitated only a fraction of a second before remembering who he was dealing with. Gutierrez was a legend in the M-18 ranks; there was no questioning the seriousness of his threat.

"Yun-Ji. She asked me to make the call to Hector."

A beat of silence followed before Bobby said, "The stripper. The one from The Landing Strip. _That_ Yun-Ji?"

At the kid's nod, the four Rangemen turned seamlessly and exited the room, boots pounding as they raced for the stairs. Lester whipped his cell phone out and dialed Mark's number. When he answered, Les wasted no time.

"Is Yun-Ji on stage tonight?"

"Uh, lemme check…nope. She's not on the schedule, probably sleeping off last night's bender. Bobby knows where she lives. Why, what's up?"

"Thanks." Les murmured before hanging up. He looked at Bobby. "She's at her apartment."

Ranger spoke up. "Bobby, you and Hector go, see what you can get out of her. Les and I-"

Les exploded, shoving Ranger against the wall. "Fuck you, Ranger! If you'd told us Gia was with Stephanie at that fucking park, we'd have known to look for her and she wouldn't be gone!"

Bobby stepped between the two, a hand on either man's chest. "Enough! Les, you already blacked his eye. Knock it off. The signal we get from Bomber's panic button gives us her location, it's not designed to do a head count! We didn't know they were together."

Lester raised his voice to DEFCOM-3 levels and screamed, "HE KNEW! He was the only ONE who knew Gia went to that fucking funeral with Steph, he didn't tell ANYONE they were-"

"I didn't tell anyone because it wasn't important at the time!" Ranger cut him off. "You were in a separate car, Santos. We rode to the docks in Linden separately to check out the warehouse, and we rode back separately. I gave my car the sit-rep. I gave Ram's car the sit-rep. You and Bobby and Bones were behind us, I truly didn't think you'd get to them before me."

"And even if you'd known, she was gone before we got there." Bobby finished.

"If we'd known, we could have positioned a car to chase them!" Lester seethed back. He was tightly wound, ready to launch himself at his cousin again.

"We did chase them." Ranger said calmly. "They laid a fucking spike strip down and it blew all four tires on the SUV. I know you're pissed, Santos, and maybe you're not entirely wrong, but right now we need to focus on the objective. We need to determine her location and perform an extraction. Just like we've done a hundred times."

Lester had had it. He shoved Bobby aside and lunged at Ranger. "She's NOT just another fucking extraction!" he shouted as the two hit the landing and rolled down the flight of stairs, wrapped around each other. Bobby cursed and stomped after him. He'd known Lester long enough to figure out that his partner had a little crush on Giana – hell, Bobby himself had had more than a few fantasies about her – but he'd obviously underestimated the seriousness of the situation. This was more than just a fleeting crush for Lester, and Bobby was going to do everything he could to help get her home safely…if he could ever break the two idiots wrestling on the stairs up. He reached into the writhing tangle of black at his feet and tried to pull them apart, getting knocked on his ass for his efforts.

Since the stairwell, as well as everything else at Rangeman, was monitored, it was only a minute later that Stephanie arrived. She strode purposefully over to the men and shouted, "If you two don't knock it off I'm going to start kicking crotches!"

That gave the men pause, and Stephanie and Bobby helped the two up. "If you two are done beating the crap out of each other, we need to find my friend. Did you get anything from Lizard?" she asked.

After giving each other a cool glance, Lester answered her. "We got a name. We were on our way to check it out when…"

Stephanie rolled her eyes and snarked, "When you decided to act like idiots and throw each other down the steps? Got it. If you're done, can we please go? Grab Hector, I'm sure he'll want to come."

Bobby gestured up the flight and said, "He's right behind…" and trailed off. "Hec! Hey, Gutierrez, let's roll!" he called. When he got no response, he heard Les mutter, "Shit!" and they all took off at a run for the control room.

"Pull up the feed from the stairwell, 10 minutes ago!" Ranger barked at Hal. Hal pulled up the correct screen and they watched as Lester shoved Ranger against the wall, and almost immediately Hector slipped out the door leading to the garage.

"Garage feed, same time, pull it up!" Ranger ordered. Seconds later, they watched as Hector climbed into a black Rangeman SUV and peeled out onto Haywood Avenue.

"Let's move!" Lester yelled, shooting a glare at Ranger. Ranger turned to the waiting sea of black and said, "We're checking a lead. Be prepared to roll on my call. Tank, keep your phone on you." And with that, Ranger shot Stephanie a pointed stare – _stay here_ – and raced to the garage on Lester and Bobby's heels.

* * *

By the time they got to Yun-Ji's apartment, Hector was gone. She'd answered the door in tears, having been soundly threatened by Hec. She'd caved fairly easily and told him everything, the men had learned. About how she'd been visited by a Korean man named Heun at the club and he'd paid her for a 'private after-hours show' at a house outside of Newark. How the four men at the house had all taken her, and how she'd been paid and sent along her way. She'd forgotten her phone, she stated, and when she went back to the house to retrieve it she'd seen Roy, 'that big dumb guy who worked with Bobby', in the house and thought it odd. By the time she got home, Heun had been waiting in her apartment for her. After he'd thoroughly terrified her, Heun had fucked her brutally and promised more of the same from a dozen men if she told anyone what she'd seen or who she'd been with. Heun had contacted her a couple of days ago with the information he wanted her to feed Lizard, who was an occasional 'customer' of hers.

"Why didn't he just kill her?" Bobby whispered to Ranger, gesturing toward Yun-Ji as she sobbed on her couch.

"Arrogance. Probably wanted to use her in some capacity before they killed her." Ranger said in a low voice, eyes focused on Les.

"And now these fucking animals have Giana. And we can't find them." was Lester's reply. He sat heavily and closed his eyes, scrubbing them with his palms. "It's probably not worth the trip, but let's hit the house she saw Roy at. Hector's got enough lead time on us that he's already picked it clean, but I'm not just going to sit here waiting."

It was approaching midnight by the time they reached the house outside of Newark. They approached cautiously, moving through the shadows and taking care to ensure they remained undetected. As they approached the open back door, the metallic scent of blood hit all of them at once.

Entering the kitchen cautiously, they noticed the first dead man right away. His throat was gaping in a perfectly arching line and he lay where he'd probably fallen, dead seconds after being sliced.

Ranger motioned for the men to move forward, and they slipped soundlessly around the body and down a hallway. Two more dead men lay in the living room; their deaths had obviously been more thought out and slow than the first man's. After determining the rest of the house was empty – and finding a room nearly bursting at the seams with heavy artillery – the men reconvened in the living room.

"Well, if there was any information to be had, Hector got it." Bobby said grimly, nudging the severed hand lying near Bozo #2. Ranger nodded and motioned toward the coffee table, where #3's hand had been skewered to the wood with a knife. "I'd bet this guy gave up something."

"So that's it." Lester's voice was insipid, bordering on disinterested. "We just throw our hands up and let Hector take the lead here. We sit around and just hope for the best."

Ranger approached his cousin slowly, waiting for Lester's earlier anger to bubble to the surface. When Les remained still and silent, Ranger slowly reached out and squeezed Les's shoulder. "I know, _primo_. I get it." Waiting for Les to meet his eyes, Ranger nodded slowly to drive home the fact that he did, in fact, get the reason for Lester's unbridled anger. Ranger was a quiet man; he was not an oblivious man. "We'll keep looking. While Hector's running this lead out, we'll keep going."

They left the house a moment later, leaving no trace of their clandestine visit.

* * *

The sun rose brightly over Trenton, New Jersey at 6:13am precisely. The weather station promised it would be a scorcher, and the city woke up in increments – early morning commuters, husbands sent out to get a missing breakfast ingredient, and mercenaries running down leads.

The men inside Haywood collapsed heavily into the conference room chairs. They were just back from their hunt and none of them had anything to show for it. A concerned Mark had called Lester around 1am, wondering if they were trying to locate Bobby (the only reason he could figure Les would want to know if Yun-Ji was dancing last night) and wondering if he'd seen Gia; she was supposed to have called him after the funeral she was attending to let him know what time she was making dinner last night and he hadn't been able to reach her. Les thought, distantly, he'd have to tell Mark about Yun-Ji's side business at some point. Mark ran a strip club, not a brothel, and the dancer's side business would need to be exposed. He wondered, briefly, if his mind was shutting down from an overload of stress and was throwing out these meaningless tidbits to distract him. _I'm going crazy, _he thought. _Wheeee!_

The Maras had been apoplectic at the news of Lizard's betrayal, and Ranger had left the kid in their hands. There was no room, no time to feel any guilt for handing him over to a brotherhood as diligent about protecting their own as Rangeman itself was, knowing the rest of the kid's short life would be…unpleasant. No, Ranger's sole focus was righting a wrong. Stephanie had made clear the fact that Gia pushed her to safety and was unable to escape because of it. The remorse and guilt she felt was evident as she tirelessly ran down any lead she could think to chase. He owed this woman a speedy – and hopefully safe – recovery, not only because she was important to Hector but because she had kept his wife safe.

Sighing, Ranger pushed back all unproductive thoughts and addressed the conference room full of his men.

"Here's what we know." He began, and outlined the pitifully small amount of information they'd gleaned. When he finished, he asked if there were any questions before they went back to the task at hand.

"Yeah. Why doesn't anyone know about these guys? They're selling guns, right?" asked Hal. When Ranger nodded in the affirmative, Hal continued. "To who? The Mara's are looking for them, there's not another prominent gang around here…have we looked into the local Families?"

Ranger nodded to affirm Hal's suspicion. "Steph called in a favor to Connie Rosolli. You all remember her uncle and his Family ties?" Nods all around. "Connie says her uncle isn't aware of any guns being bought, certainly not stockpiled. So we're asking Terri Gilman about _her _uncle's possible involvement. Since we don't have a connection, we had to call Joe Morelli for a favor."

Ranger's news was met with a few hisses and a lot of gritted teeth. "I know, I feel the same way about him. But we can't be picky about who eats at our lunch table today, gentlemen. If Morelli can get any info from the Grizzoli Family, all the better for us."

Ram spoke next. "What do we know about Roy? How did he get past the screening process?"

Ranger's face went from strained to murderous in a flash. "He was still in the probationary period. He didn't have access to any client information; he wasn't put on any surveillance duty, so we hadn't finished the vetting process. We're still working on what his tie to the KDC was."

Vince raised a hand and said, "You said Jimmy Curtains told Connie that he wasn't 'aware' of guns being bought. Do you think he suspects they're being bought on the sly? Why not say, 'No, Ranger, there are no guns being bought because I didn't authorize it'? Aren't these old mob guys more…assertive?"

Ranger took a moment to process Vince's observation; it was a long shot, but right now, all they had were long shots. He nodded and said, "I like it. Let's run with it. Can someone grab Steph? She's running down info in the system, she's our 'in' with Rosolli."

After talking to Connie, Stephanie addressed the room. "Connie's calling her uncle to try and arrange a meeting this morning with Ranger. What about Vaughn? Do we call him and tell him what happened?"

Lester spoke up. "I think we need to keep this 'need to know' for now. The last thing we need is someone grabbing him, too. I think we'll need to address Mark Tatum; Gia was supposed to have dinner with him and she never called or showed. He's called a few times, worried about her. If he panics and calls her family, it'll take resources away from the search." He spoke in a monotone. His brain had overloaded some time ago and he felt oddly detached and emotionless as he addressed the room. He was operating at the most basic level right now, all instinct and habit. Bobby, ever in tune with his partner, gave his arm a discreet and sympathetic squeeze.

Ranger gave a single nod and, sensing that his cousin needed a break, asked, "You want to call him, Santos?" Lester rose gracefully and left the room without another word.

The call to Mark didn't go as planned. When he answered the phone, he was past worried. He'd driven to Gia's house at first light and, finding it empty, was on his way to Rangeman. It wasn't like her to stay out all night, he insisted. She never, ever consented to a one-night stand (_interesting_, Pseudo-Les thought) and he knew she wasn't seeing anyone. She would also never ditch him without so much as a phone call, so he was headed toward Rangeman to speak with Hector. Les knew then that he'd have to clue Mark in to what was happening. He instructed Mark to park out front and Les would meet him at the doors.

A short fifteen minutes later, Mark sat in Lester's fifth floor office in stunned silence. He had opened his mouth as though to speak and shut it several times before slumping forward and cradling his head in his hands. "What a fucking nightmare." He whispered.

"Yeah. A nightmare." Les agreed in his blank voice. It was odd, feeling so detached. If he concentrated hard enough, Lester could almost believe he could step out of his body and view everything as a silent, third-party observer. He wondered, briefly, how hard this was going to hit him after the initial impact of Giana's disappearance wore off. On autopilot, he stood and motioned toward the door. "Come on, let's go see if they've heard back from Jimmy Rosolli."

Upon exiting the office, they headed toward the conference room to see if there were any updates. And that's when all Hell broke loose.

* * *

The noise started at the monitors. A shout of surprise, a loud call of, "Ranger! Sir, we need you at the monitors!" and what sounded like a stampede. _Who knew all these CAT boots stomping on carpet would sound like a herd of cattle running?_, Pseudo-Les thought dimly. He steered Mark toward the noise and peered over Ranger's shoulder at the monitor screen, his apathy turning to shock and then elation – it was Hector, standing at the open passenger door of a Rangeman SUV, leaning over the still-obscured occupant. Without a thought, Lester whirled and raced for the stairs, apparently having had the inclination to do so only seconds before the rest of the men. If the stampede had been loud a moment ago, now it was positively thunderous. The cacophony of boots pounding the steps as they hit the stairwell reached a deafening crescendo, and as Lester burst through the garage level access door and skidded to a stop in front of Hector, he realized he'd been holding his breath and sucked in a lungful with a loud, sharp gasp.

There stood Hector, menacing as ever, still on high alert from whatever Hell he'd subjected himself to. His guns drawn and pointed at the crowd of men, he stood unblinking, teeth bared. He was sweaty and bleeding from a few small visible gashes, and the left side of his shirt was stained heavily with blood. The Rangemen stood stock still, giving Hector a chance to assess the danger level and lower his weapons.

Slightly behind and to the side of him stood Giana. Gloriously filthy, her pouty bottom lip split and distended, and one eye swollen almost shut, she stood shivering and pale as fresh milk. Her jaw was clenched, in pain or in an effort to still her trembling, Les wasn't sure. He felt relief flood his soul, and the joy he felt at seeing her alive split his heart nearly in two. He took a step toward her and was rewarded with the sound of Hector chambering a bullet and Giana's involuntary step backward. Lester paused and took a closer look at her; her eyes were shiny, the look of desperation now easy to spot. There was also fear, exhaustion, and determination there, and Les felt his heart break a little at the thought of anyone misusing her.

He held his hands up in surrender to Hector, his eyes never breaking contact with Giana's. The two stared at each other, silent as Ranger murmured reassuring words to Hector. He slowly lowered the gun, flipped the safety on, and stepped to the side to hide Giana from the men now openly staring at her. Lester saw her fingers curl into the back of Hector's shirt, desperate for some kind of reassurance. She'd been hurt, and scared, for an entire day. The small fissure he'd felt erupt a moment ago burned hot in his chest, a fire that could only be quenched by holding her in his arms. As much as she needed reassurance of her safety right now…Lester was selfishly tempted to argue he needed it even more.

The silent standoff was broken when Mark pushed through the front line. As soon as she saw him, Giana started to weep openly. Heart-wrenching sobs ripped through the air and tore at Lester's soul before Mark stepped forward and swung her off her feet, bridal style, and strode quickly toward the elevators, Hector tight on his heels.

"My apartment. Second floor." Hector barked as Mark stepped through the doors with Giana tucked firmly against his chest. Bobby was quick to intercede. "Hec, I need to examine her – you, too – let's hit my office on five first." He stepped onto the elevator just before the doors slid shut, leaving Lester wanting and stripped in the Rangeman garage.


	16. Chapter 16

**_A/n: I've got 99 reviews and there's a Jay-Z joke in there somewhere but I'm not able to wrangle it...probably because I use words like 'wrangle'. Thanks a heap, everyone who left a review!_**

The noise outside of Bobby's medical suite, normally a respectfully low hum, was thick with excited voices as the men of Rangeman milled around, waiting for news. The fact that Hector had struck out alone and accomplished, in one night, what they'd been unable to do for weeks – find the key players of the gang they'd been in pursuit of – secretly rankled more than a few of them, though they'd never be insensitive enough to bring it up. At least, not yet.

Inside the suite, tension was the dominant emotion. Ranger, Hector, and Lester had pushed their way in behind Mark and Giana before firmly shutting the rest of the men out. Stephanie had arrived seconds later, banged on the door until she was admitted, and now stood beside Gia as Bobby examined her, probed her, and asked all manner of intrusive questions.

Giana insisted, for the tenth time, that she was fine. They'd smacked her around a little, she said, and handled her roughly, but that was all. When Bobby asked, quietly in her ear, if she'd like a rape kit done, she sighed pitifully and said, "No one touched me. No one drugged me, no one raped me. I was conscious the entire time, after I woke up in the car, but we were still driving. They just tied me up and left me blindfolded."

"How did you escape?" Mark asked the million-dollar question.

The change in her posture was immediate. Her head lifted higher, she pushed her shoulders back and the set of her jaw line tightened. The resolve in her stance would have been clear to the most oblivious person. Giana raised her violet eyes to Hector's steely chocolate brown ones and said, "They let me go. Hector picked me up while I was walking home."

The vehemence with which she spit out those two sentences was strong enough that everyone in the room paused for a second. Hector and Gia continued to stare at each other, unblinking, for several long seconds before Hector delicately and almost imperceptibly bowed his head at her. She exhaled and relaxed her shoulders before addressing Bobby.

"Now that you know I'm fine, can you check him, please? He's bleeding." And with that, she hopped off the bed and pulled Hector to it, waiting expectantly. She tried to project an air of calm assurance, but the way she had her arms wrapped tightly around her torso belied her cool exterior.

Unable to curb the steadily building need to hold her any longer, Lester stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her body. She relaxed against his chest, sinking into his warmth, before snaking her arms around his back. He rubbed small, soothing circles between her shoulders before planting a soft, sweet kiss on the top of her head, choosing for the moment to ignore Hector's glowering stare.

Mark, subtle as a flying mallet, spoke. "So you disappear, show back up hours later, _with_ _Gia_, you're bleeding and in Commando Mode, and you're telling us you just…what, found her hiking back here?"

"It's the truth, Tater. Hector found me walking and gave me a ride back to Rangeman." Gia's voice, muffled by Lester's chest, was stern and left no room for argument. Stephanie exchanged a knowing glance with Les; something was up.

"And the cuts? Why did Hector show up looking like he went a few rounds with a steak knife?" He persisted. Mark Tatum was a genial, easy going guy. Few things got his Irish up, but being lied to was one of them. He clenched his fists by his side, unwilling to let the matter drop.

Gia shrugged and lifted her head from Lester's chest. "Sparring? Sometimes the guys get carried away in the gym." And she lowered her head to his chest again. The need for comfort was overwhelming her; the warm little cocoon Lester provided was a welcome distraction.

Lester tried his luck. "Listen, sweets, if there's something we can do to help, we'll do it. You just need to tell us what happened. We're on your side."

Giana took a deep breath and spared a glance at Hector. She met the eyes of every person in the room, one by one, and in a tone that left no room for argument, said, "They let me go. That is what I will tell anyone who asks. No one came to the warehouse for me, and everyone was fine when I left. That's it. It's not going to change, ever." The silence that followed rang heavy with everything left unsaid, the implication of her statement undeniable to everyone in the room.

"You're done, Hec. Twelve stitches for the gash on your side; the smaller cuts will heal on their own. Don't get the bandage wet for a few days, here's the ointment you'll need to apply twice a day." As Bobby rattled off care instructions, Lester felt Giana's body begin shaking in earnest; the adrenaline letdown was hitting her hard. After asking Stephanie to grab a can of Coke from the fridge Bobby kept in the infirmary, Lester took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. She gave him a grateful squeeze before releasing him and wrapping her hands around the can, sipping slowly before easing herself on the bed next to Hector.

Hector gave Bobby a nod before standing to address the room. "Gia's staying here for a few days. She'll be on two with me. I'll need a visitor's pass so she's not trapped in my apartment. I don't want her to stay at her house alone just yet." This was news to Gia, made apparent by the way her head snapped toward Hector. Her indignant expression softened when she saw how bone tired her friend was, and she nodded after hesitating only a moment.

Hector looked at Ranger and said, "I'm going to review the video feed from last night. It might not be a bad idea to remind the employees of the non-disclosure agreement they signed and what, exactly, that entails." The message was clear – Hector was planning to do some editing of the Rangeman security feed from last night; why was not yet clear. He wanted the employees to remember that they were prohibited from discussing anything that happened inside the building or pertaining to any account information they were able to access.

After receiving a nod from Ranger, Hector helped Giana stand. The two joined hands and, after bidding the others goodbye, left the medical suite, headed toward Hector's apartment on two.

The crush of men outside the infirmary parted to let Hector and Giana through, no one daring to ask what happened. After they climbed aboard the elevator and the doors slid shut, the hum of voices picked up steadily until Ranger exited Bobby's suite, barking a "Back to work!" that sent the men scrambling. Ranger headed to his office, Stephanie in tow, and Lester grabbed Bobby and headed toward the indoor gun range to blow off some steam.

* * *

Ranger sat at his desk, staring at his computer screen. A quick glance at the clock confirmed his suspicion – he'd been sitting here for half an hour, running over what happened in his mind.

Hector had found Giana and rescued her, of that Ranger had no doubt. He also suspected that he'd dispatched her captors in the same manner as the three men in the house Yun-Ji had directed them to. Ranger was unclear on where the men were located, and the state of the gang itself; would there be retaliation? Should they be preparing for retribution? There was also the unanswered question that Vince posed in their meeting – did Jimmy 'Curtains' Rosolli know more than he first let on? Their meeting had been postponed and Hector was getting some much needed rest, so that question would have to marinate a bit longer.

Ranger was pulled out of his reverie by his phone ringing. It was Junior at the front desk, and he sounded tense.

"Sir, Detective Morelli is here asking to speak with you."

Ranger raised his eyes to his wife's now alert form. He hung up the phone and stood, stepping around the desk and pulling Stephanie to her feet. He whispered that the police were here, and she nodded in understanding.

Show time.

* * *

Ranger entered Conference Room A – the same conference room where they'd severed ties with Morelli almost a week ago – and greeted Joe with a nod. Morelli was there in an official capacity, as evidenced by the two suits flanking him. Tank followed Ranger in with Bobby and Lester right on his heels.

"Carlos Manoso, meet Detective John Walsh, D.E.A. and Agent Maury Smith from the A.T.F. They're here to ask you a few questions." Joe made the initial introduction and left it to Ranger to introduce his men; Joe had never been able to keep them all straight, anyway.

Niceties aside, Ranger got down to business. "What can Rangeman do for the DEA _now_, gentlemen?" he asked, making clear his annoyance at being descended upon by Morelli clear.

"Mr. Manoso," began Agent Smith, "as you know, we've been working in conjunction with the TPD and Newark's police department to track the distribution of illegal military weapons by the Korean Dragon Crew." Here he paused, waiting for Ranger to agree with his assessment. When he was met with four blank stares, he hurriedly continued. "The DEA is here because, frankly, we've assumed all along the Mara's are involved with them, trading drugs for guns. We've found, recently, that that's not the case. Detective Walsh here has kindly agreed to stay on as a liaison.

"In the interest of wrapping this case up, I'm going to share some classified information with you gentlemen; I'd appreciate your discretion with this information. Last night, an anonymous call was place from a payphone outside of Linden, reporting gunshots being fired. When we arrived, we found eleven men, dead. They were spread throughout the warehouse, some shot, some stabbed. One poor bastard was slit from ear to ear. A single gun with a silencer was used, so we're assuming these men were killed by one individual. We also found three white cars, matching the description Miss Plum gave when you reported that Miss McGovern was 'allegedly' kidnapped."

Agent Smith did nothing to hide the smirk when he alluded that Gia's kidnapping was less than the truth, and Ranger did not take kindly to having his integrity questioned.

"Mrs. Manoso." He said softly, deceptively.

Agent Smith faltered. "Excuse me?"

"My wife. You referred to her as 'Miss Plum'. Her name is Mrs. Manoso."

Lester, Tank, and Bobby suppressed a grim smile; they knew Ranger well enough to know that their boss was not in the mood for some ABC agency suits to come into his business and throw around thinly veiled accusations. They sat back and waited for him to continue.

Agent Smith flushed and shot a glance at Morelli, who sat glowering at Ranger. Joe had shared with Smith and Walsh Ranger's reputation for vigilantism, and in his opinion, this assassination reeked of Rangeman involvement. Still, there was no proof so the proper channels had to be pursued. He cleared his throat and addressed Ranger.

"Since you reported that Miss McGovern had been kidnapped by Korean men driving white sports cars, and we found a warehouse full of dead Korean men and three white sports cars, it stands to reason that these were the men who took her. She wasn't found at the site; however, CSI has found her prints and a few long red hairs in one of the cars. We thought we'd come to you, see if you had any information you'd like to share with us to aid in her recovery." Having said his piece, Joe leaned back in the chair and waited. He knew that Ranger wouldn't be pressed into revealing anything, so a 'sit and see' approach was the only way to get any information out of him.

Ranger raised one eyebrow and said, "That's the reason you're here in an official capacity – to see if we have any information that will help you find Giana McGovern? Is that all, Detective?"

When Joe nodded, Ranger stood and said, "Then I think this meeting is over, gentlemen." When Tank, Bobby, and Lester stood to follow him out of the room, Joe couldn't resist a parting shot.

"Aren't you interested in recovering the woman who saved your wife, Manoso?"

Ranger turned to face the men still seated at his conference room table and paused for effect, a sinister grin spreading across his face. "Of course I am, detective. That's why we found her and brought her home this morning."

Then he shut the door in their stunned faces and pulled out his cell phone, immediately calling Hector to give him a heads up. Ranger wasn't sure what Hec's strategy was, but Hector Gutierrez had always been a man with a plan.

* * *

As expected, after Morelli and company were escorted from the building, TPD was back with a search warrant within the hour. Joe was red faced and steaming mad, so of course the men of Rangeman were instructed to ignore his requests for as long as humanly possible. The warrant was obtained for the sole purpose of ascertaining that Giana was, in fact, recovered and alive and well.

Twenty minutes after they gained entrance, the men in blue were granted an audience with the lady of the hour herself.

Gia took a seat in good old Conference Room A, across from the police officers, Detective Walsh and Agent Smith. She was accompanied by Hector and Ranger; Lester flat out refused to be excluded and stood just inside the door. Mark agreed to go home for the now, after being reassured that Gia would be closely looked after, and also to keep the news of her kidnapping to himself for the time being.

She was freshly showered, her wavy red hair still damp, and completely free of makeup. Les noted that she looked even more vulnerable and young with her skin freshly scrubbed – but then, he guessed that was the idea.

After asking her to state her name and date for the record, Morelli launched right into the questions.

"Please describe the events that led to your alleged kidnapping."

Giana painstakingly described their departure from the funeral home, Roy's abduction and subsequent murder, Stephanie pressing her panic button and lock picking the handcuffs, and finally their near escape from the roof.

"So how did they get you in the car?" he asked.

Gia shrugged and said, "I'm not sure. One minute I was trying to reach Stephanie's hand to climb the fire escape and the next, I was in a car with a bunch of strange men who didn't speak English."

"Where did they take you? How were you restrained?" Joe pushed on.

It was all downhill from there…at least for the Detectives. Giana swore that she was blindfolded the entire time. That the men only spoke in a foreign language so she didn't know any names or have any information to share with the police; she hadn't been able to determine where they took her since she was blindfolded in the car. That she had been 'handled roughly', pointing out her split lip and swollen, bruised face, and how, after hours of captivity, she'd been shoved into a car, driven to a payphone and pushed out onto the sidewalk, still blindfolded.

Joe was pulling at his hair in frustration at this point. "So you expect us to believe that they kidnapped you, held you and then just released you? You would've been the perfect leverage to use to draw out Gutierrez. You can't think we'd believe that." Joe Morelli had been in smelling distance of a career-making bust. The notoriety he'd have gained with taking down this gang, recovering stolen guns and possibly saving a kidnapped woman would have launched his career into a stratosphere he hadn't even dared to dream of; now, it was all compromised by one little red-headed girl who was lying through her teeth. Why, he wasn't exactly sure yet, but he knew she was covering for someone.

She shrugged. "Believe what you'd like, detective. After they shoved me out of the car, I found a payphone and made a call to Hector's cell phone. I'm sure the phone company will have records."

"And can you tell us what happened after you called Mr. Gutierrez, ma'am?" asked Agent Smith, placing a quieting hand on Morelli's shoulder.

"Sure. I described where I was. Hector told me to wait on a bench, he came and picked me up, and we drove back here. I was pretty exhausted, and scared, so Hec let me stay over in his apartment."

"And you didn't think it was important to notify the police department to let them know that you'd been released? None of you thought that was important?" Morelli sneered.

Ranger addressed Morelli in a voice that was full of disgust. "Since we learned some time ago that you couldn't be trusted to keep our best interests in the forefront, Detective, we naturally assumed that Miss McGovern's safe return wasn't at the top of your list of priorities. After all, 'hero rescues woman' doesn't look quite as impressive on a résumé as 'cop takes down local cartel', right, Morelli?" Joe hated Ranger, hated that he was so adept at reading other people, and hated himself because Ranger was right – he would have rather dismantled the gang from the inside out than sacrifice the mission to save one woman.

Ranger and Hector stood in one seamless motion and helped Gia out of her chair. Hector turned to the police and said, "I think you've got all the information from Miss McGovern you need to declare her 'found'. Lester will see you out."

Morelli was approaching meltdown territory. He slammed his open hand on the table and yelled, "I'm not an idiot! I know about you, Gutierrez, about your dirty little banger past, and this annihilation _**reeks**_ of your handiwork. I'm going to go over ballistics with a fine-tooth comb. I'm going to subpoena every bit of evidence I can, and I'm going to get your little friend here to repeat this testimony under oath. And when I prove that you walked into that warehouse and murdered eleven men, you're going to rot in a cell for the rest of your life with the other thugs and criminals, right where you belong." And with that, Joe Morelli stormed out of the conference room and out of the building, followed closely by his men.

_**Later that night…**_

"I'm so scared, Hec. What if they can link this to you?" Gia whispered. They'd been holed up in his apartment since the police left, curled on the couch together, quietly absorbing the newest threat against them.

"They can't." he murmured, gently rubbing her head. She'd laid her head on his lap an hour ago, and he rhythmically stroked her hair while she worried and fretted.

"You fixed the recorded footage from that night?" she asked.

"Yes. It shows me leaving after I made the call from the payphone. It shows us coming back soon after that. I'm covered."

"But what if we miss something? What if they trip me up when they question me? You heard that cop today, he's gunning for you." Here she swallowed back a sob. Losing Hector, now, was unbearable, even in the hypothetical.

He continued to pet her head. "You'll do the best you can." He said.

"What if my best isn't enough?" came her strained reply.

For this, Hector had no answer. He had done everything possible to create an airtight alibi for that night…but mistakes happened. He had solid enough proof that he'd been at Rangeman at the time those bastards had been killed, but Giana was right. She wasn't familiar with police procedure or being questioned for hours, endlessly being asked the same thing twenty different ways in the hopes of garnering a confession.

"They'll be back, soon. Maybe tomorrow. And they'll have an arrest warrant next time." She whispered, tears leaking from her eyes.

They sat in silence as the minutes ticked by. A thought flickered in Giana's subconscious, like the first spark that starts a roaring fire. Her breath caught as she turned this thought over in her mind, needling it, trying to poke holes in it. Her breathing picked up and a small smile began to form on her face.

Hector noticed the change immediately, but waited for her to explain herself. She sat up abruptly, excited, and allowed the relief to wash over her, bathing her in satisfaction.

"I think I've got an idea. But we need to call Vaughn…tonight. And we'll need to call Pam before it's over, I think."

In Hector's second floor apartment at the Rangeman Headquarters in Trenton, New Jersey, Giana McGovern began to lay out the plan that would save both their skins.

And boy, was it a good one.


	17. Chapter 17

_**A/n: Chapters 17 and 18 really go hand-in-hand, and I couldn't find a satisfactory way to break them in a way that allowed the story to flow…so I'm posting the two back to back. All will be revealed in the next chapter…thanks for hanging in there with me.**_

_**And a special thanks to the reviewers who guessed and then outed my plot twist. If you'd like, I'll give you my address and you can come tell my kids there's no Santa come December. Yeesh. I, like every other author, spend a lot of time writing for others' enjoyment. So thanks for intentionally being a fun sponge.**_

_**On a happier note...my Beta is better than yours (: She's the best cheerleader ever, so thanks, snapesgirl21**_

Vaughn lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. A quick glance at the clock revealed he was approaching hour two of 'going to sleep'…so with a frustrated flip of his comforter, he rolled out of bed and stomped to the kitchen. Maybe some of that nighttime tea his sister insisted he buy would help him relax enough to sleep.

Fuck it, who was he kidding? His problem had nothing to do with being tired and everything to do with being worried. Hector was out there, somewhere, unsafe, possibly injured, possibly dead…the uncertainty was agony, the inability to communicate with him a deeply felt misery. What he really needed to aid him in his pursuit of a good night's sleep was a sinewy, sexy Latin body curled next to his.

Still, he dutifully boiled the water and steeped the tea bag, staring out his window at the New York City nightlife drifting by his building. As quickly as he'd fallen in love with his apartment, he'd lately been chewing on the idea of moving. Sure, he'd need to make frequent trips to the city for work, but he could write and compose anywhere…and lately, his mind and heart were somewhere far from his cozy little home in Hell's Kitchen; specifically, in Trenton, New Jersey.

Just as he was blowing the steam from his mug, his cell phone rang. The caller I.D. was blocked, and he almost rejected the call. With a shrug, he decided that maybe listening to a telemarketer try and sell him a vacation condo in Ronkonkoma might be just the thing to put him to sleep. With a sigh, he answered with a quiet, "Hello?"

Less than ten minutes later, Vaughn had abandoned his nighttime tea and had a hastily packed bag on his shoulder. He wrenched open the door to find Juice, the New York Rangeman assigned to him this evening, waiting for him. With a terse nod, Juice walked quickly to the garage and secured the him in Vaughn's car. With a quick prayer for green lights and distracted cops, Vaughn set off for Trenton and the man he loved.

* * *

After arriving at Rangeman: Trenton and being summarily greeted in the parking garage by his sister (her presence didn't exactly register as odd to him, so great was his anticipation of seeing for himself, finally, that Hector was okay), Vaughn was finally allowed to quell the unease that had colored his days dark. Holding Hector, touching him and breathing his scent, nearly unmanned Vaughn. After an hour or so of reconnecting and loving each other, Hector pulled away and told Vaughn they needed to talk, and that Giana needed to be here for the discussion.

Vaughn took the news of his sister's abduction surprisingly well; he only looked at Hector and said, "We need to talk more later about how I wasn't called." and motioned for Gia to continue. When she delicately explained the real story of her 'emancipation process', as she called it, Vaughn covered his mouth and closed his eyes, raising his other hand to halt her story.

Hector remained stoic and unmoving, save for a slight tightening around his mouth. This was what he'd always feared, why he'd never desired a relationship before Vaughn fell into his life – he didn't want anyone touched by the ugliness and brutality that Hector found himself involved with. He waited, breathing shallowly, for his lover's disgust and anger at putting his sister in danger, and for what he'd had to do to those men to rescue her.

It never came. When Vaughn opened his eyes a minute later, he looked at Hector and whispered, "_Thank you_." with such love and reverence, Gia blushed and had to look away from the pair. Knowing Hector wasn't a physically demonstrative man with anyone but him, Vaughn settled for caressing his hand and kissing the back of it. Slowly, the trepidation receded and Hector relaxed in the circle of his boyfriend's arms.

Gia cleared her throat to bring attention to the matter at hand. "So our fear is that I'll be arrested and interrogated; I don't want that to happen, V. I don't want you two separated, and I don't want Hec in jail. I've got a plan…but you're not going to like it."

She was right. He didn't like it, not one bit, but after raging about Hector's apartment and refusing to go along with it, Vaughn wound slowly down and finally hung his head in defeat.

"You're right," he whispered, "your plan is airtight and it makes sense. But I fucking hate that we're being forced into it."

Giana approached her brother. The two were the closest of friends, constant companions; they'd shared a womb and neither had never really been interested in detaching from the other. She'd known what his reaction would be with more surety than she'd known how _she_ would respond, but she also knew this was their best shot at keeping Hector free from prison. It had to be done.

"I know you do. But if we do it right, it'll be temporary. We'll be safe, and you'll have Hector back, forever. No more hiding, no more running…it's a means to an end, Bawn."

The use of Gia's childhood nickname for her brother, whose name was too difficult for her toddler mouth to pronounce, was oddly reassuring. He answered in like fashion. "Okay, GiGi. What do we do first?"

As Giana laid out their plan, Hector and Vaughn took turns trying to shred it. They presented unlikely scenarios, played devil's advocate, and questioned the legality of it all. After almost half an hour of the third degree, Gia had enough. She threw her arms up and snapped, "Look! I'm not a complete moron! I busted my ass and graduated college a year early, WITH Honors! I also roomed with Pam, the anal-retentive law student, who didn't take a pee break unless it was booked into her study schedule, **literally**! I helped her cram, I quizzed her for hours on end about this stuff and I am telling you both, the law will be on our side. Trust me; if we do this, we've got a great shot at keeping Hec safe."

Hector stood and said, "There's one thing we haven't discussed." He stepped forward and took her hand. "Do you want to do this? I appreciate, very much, the offer and I trust you, but this is a lot to ask of anyone. If you do not want to go through with it, I will understand."

She sighed, the sound of a long suffering, matronly martyr, and pulled Vaughn over. Wrapping them both in a hug, she said, "You saved me, without a thought for your own safety. What you did, Hec…I can't ever repay that. What I'm doing is so small compared to what you risked for me. So yes, I do want to do this. With Bawn's blessing, of course." Here she smiled slyly at her brother, who in turn kissed her cheek.

"So, when do we get this show on the road?" he asked as they broke apart.

"Give me an hour to arrange the necessary paperwork." Hector said, then kissed Vaughn soundly before striding to the door that led to his office.

* * *

The following morning dawned, hot and humid. Stephanie thought, for the millionth time, that maybe they should consider moving the Rangeman, Trenton location to a milder climate…say, the sun? Hell? An active volcano, perhaps? The weather was giving even the industrial air conditioners at Rangeman a run for their money, and it wasn't yet nine a.m.

After making her way downstairs and greeting the guys on monitors, Steph slid through the door of the Conference room just in time for the morning meeting.

Ranger leaned forward and steepled his fingers under his chin, signaling the beginning of the meeting.

"Hector won't be joining us this morning. He emailed me and said Giana had a rough night, so they're sleeping in. Where are we at with the Rosollis?" He asked. Stephanie huffed out a quick breath and turned to address the men.

"We're nowhere. Connie has called her uncle a couple of times, no answer, so she called her aunt. Linda said that Jimmy told her he had 'business' and she hasn't seen him since yesterday afternoon. She didn't sound too concerned – I guess she isn't in the dark about how Jimmy got his nickname – but Connie said he's very rarely unreachable for so long. I think we may have to lend credence to Vince's theory; Jimmy might be doing some investigating inside the Family, now that Rangeman has put a bug in his ear about it." Stephanie finished with a flourish of her hand toward Vince, who sat with a smug expression on his face.

Ranger nodded at Stephanie in thanks. "What's the situation at TPD? Anyone have a lead on their course of action?"

Again, Stephanie spoke up. "I called Carl last night after everything went down here. He's on compassionate leave, but he's been going into the station to keep his hand in it, you know? He's also itching for the office gossip, so I told him about Gia and Hector, and Morelli coming back in with a search warrant, looking for her. He agrees with us – Morelli is going to move and arrest Hector for suspicion of murder, and probably Giana, try and get her to testify against him. Carl thinks he'll be desperate to save face, and that if he can't produce the gang and lead the DEA and ATF to the source, he can at least pin eleven murders on someone."

Lester leaned forward and wondered, out loud, what most of the men were thinking. "She wouldn't go along with that, right? I mean, the story she gave us protects Hec initially, but we all know it's not what really happened. Would she roll on Hec?" He hated himself for even thinking it. The esteem he felt towards her was absurdly high, yet solid as stone. Since his mother, and since Michelle, he'd always erred on the side of caution when it came to trust. He trusted Bobby, that was a given. Ranger had been his cousin, Ric, long before he was a certified badass, and the history between them proved he was trustworthy. There were a very small handful of others Lester felt, with certainty, could be relied upon, but in general, he was suspicious of people's ulterior motives. Still, he couldn't shake the niggling feeling that Giana was pure and genuine.

Ranger leaned back in his chair, linking his fingers behind his head, and carefully considered his position. "My gut says she's solid." He said slowly, and Lester felt a small, smug burst of happiness in his gut. "I can see how hard Morelli's going to go after this, and that concerns me. How far can he push her before she gives him something to work with?" Here Ranger paused, then said, "Maybe we should bring Hector into this meeting."

"I'll get him." Les offered, sliding out of his chair and striding through the door. He'd been eager to lay eyes on Giana since the police questioned her, but Hector had kept her shut in his apartment. He'd also gotten a report late last night that Vaughn had arrived and been taken to the second floor, and had been worried ever since that he was there to provide support to Gia. That she would need him enough to merit a late-night visit made Les anxious, and he was eager to relieve the knot that had formed in his stomach.

Stepping off the elevator on the second floor, Les stepped around the computer equipment, servers, wires, monitors…Jesus, didn't Hector ever clean this place up? He'd continually declined Ella's offers of housekeeping, insisting he had a 'system' that he'd rather keep up himself, so she eventually quit hounding him and left him to his solitude.

"Hector! Hey, Hec, where you at? Come on out, man, Ranger needs you upstairs." Les called. He was met with silence. Approaching the door that led to Hector's apartment, Les knocked, waited a moment, and knocked again. After several minutes of not hearing any sounds stirring behind the door, Lester cursed silently and pulled out his lock picking tools. Making quick work of Hector's locks, he swung the door open and was greeted by a dark apartment. After checking each of the rooms and finding them empty, Lester turned to head back up to five. He nursed a sense of unease in the pit of his stomach, wondering where she – _they_ – could be. _Easy, Santos, you're two steps away from calling for the Maalox and sounding like Morelli, _he thought to himself.

He made his way to the conference room and strode in, eyes on Ranger.

"They're gone." He said.

Ranger, never one to waste words, pursed his lips and strode out of the room purposefully. He stopped at the monitors and asked the guys to pull the feeds in the garage from last night. He watched Vaughn arrive, Giana greet him and usher him into the elevator at around 2330, and then the three of them exited the garage at 0300.

"Why wasn't that on the logs this morning?" He asked, deceptively calm.

Hal gulped and said, "Sir, I was on monitors at 0300, and nobody left. I mean, I can see now that they left, but I'm…I, uh, I'm fairly certain there was no activity at 0300, Sir."

"Can you explain how I'm watching three people leave my secured garage, then, and how that information missed the morning report? The report that's been sitting on my desk for more than three hours now?"

"Son of a bitch wiped the camera feed so we wouldn't see him leave." Tank observed, stepping forward. "But why? He ain't stupid enough to run, and why take Giana with him? Hector wants to disappear, ain't nobody findin' him." He looked at Ranger, his eyebrow raised.

Stephanie leaned forward, squinting at the monitors. "Well," she sighed, "I guess we'll find out soon enough." The street view showed a half dozen Trenton squad cars pulling to a stop outside Rangeman, lights on for full parade effect.

Cursing under his breath, Ranger made his way to the doors to see what the hell was going on now.

_**Downstairs…**_

Ranger opened the door to Joe Morelli, who stood flanked by several of Trenton's finest. He was smirking, anticipating Rangeman's long overdue comeuppance, and was almost giddy at the thought of being the merchant of Ranger's pain.

"I have an arrest warrant for Hector Gutierrez, signed by Judge Atlee. This warrant enables me to search the premises for Mr. Gutierrez; these fine officers are accompanying me today to ensure your rights are protected, Mr. Manoso. May we come in?" Joe stated insipidly, barely hiding his grin.

"Mr. Gutierrez isn't here, Detective. But I'd be happy to give him the message when he gets back." Ranger said.

Joe's smile slipped a bit before he bit back, "You won't mind if we take a look for ourselves, this being his workplace _and_ residence, after all." And with that, Joe Morelli walked into Rangeman in search of his career bust.

After a quick search turned up nothing, a more lengthy search went underway. Several agents from Agent Smith's team at ATF were brought in, and after several hours declared that Hector Gutierrez was, in fact, not there.

"I want Giana McGovern. I need to question her regarding this investigation," a now pissed off Joe Morelli said through gritted teeth.

Lester was standing nearby and took great pleasure in bursting Joe's bubble. "She's not here either, Detective, and she's not at her house…but seeing as you don't have a warrant for her, you'll just have to take our word for it."

"Goddammit!" Joe kicked an empty trash can and sent it flying across the room. "What kind of shit ass fucking luck do I have that they're both fucking gone!? Put a warrant out, I want all eyes looking for him, and for her! I want them in by tonight!" he yelled at Big Dog, who looked more than a little embarrassed at Joe's antics.

While Joe stomped off to confer with Agent Smith, Lester made his way to Stephanie's side.

"Where do you think they could be?" he asked in a conspiratal voice. Stephanie could hear the underlying concern in Lester's voice, and placed her hand on his back between his shoulder blades, rubbing small, soothing circles.

With a sigh, she said, "I don't know, Les. She's with Hector, and I know he'll keep her safe, but I really wish they'd let us in on what they were doing. We're all sitting here, clueless…." Here Stephanie's voice trailed off; a look of concentration furrowed her brow, her bottom lip between her teeth, looking thoughtful.

"What, Beautiful? You got something?" Lester perked up considerably at the thought.

Stephanie took care with her statement. "No, not really…but what if they didn't tell us for a reason? Did they want to give us all plausible deniability? What could they possibly be doing that would require all of us being in the dark?" She gasped and looked at Lester with alarm. "You don't think they're going after the rest of that gang, do you? Hec wouldn't do that with Giana, right?"

Lester considered that theory for only a moment before shooting it down. "No way would he put Gia and Vaughn in harm's way. Hector's too smart for that. He wouldn't stash them anywhere, either – he'd leave them here, at Rangeman, if he was going vigilante." He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, closing his eyes. "I just don't know. Hector doesn't do anything impulsively. I just wish he'd clued the rest of us in on whatever it is he has planned. And…I'm worried about Giana. She's had a rough few days. It's driving me nuts that I can't see for myself that she's recovering from it all." The last part of Lester's musing was said with a small amount of embarrassment and a tinge of shame; he had no claim on her affections, no right to feel so possessive over her happiness.

Stephanie, ever sensitive to her friend's feelings, slid her arm around his waist and squeezed. "You care about her, Lester. That's a good thing. You've been taking steps toward making a future with her a possibility; give yourself some credit."

When he looked at her quizzically, she smiled and said, "Do you think I haven't noticed the fact that you haven't been going out with the guys lately? You've been here, working out every night. That says a lot about you, Les." With a quick, affectionate peck on the cheek, she whispered, "You're almost there."

They were interrupted by Ram's approach. "Sir, Bomber, there's a woman here to see you. She says Giana told her to come to Rangeman and ask for either of you, or Ranger." With a frown, Steph motioned for Lester to follow her to the lobby to greet their mystery guest.

"Pam!" Stephanie exclaimed, hurrying over to greet their guest, Lester right on her heels. "What's going on? Sorry, you remember Les, right?"

With a nod and a smile in Lester's direction, Pam shrugged. "I don't know. I got a call from Gia, she asked me to be here by 2pm and ask for Les, you, or your husband. That was it. After she made me promise to be here, she hung up."

Their eyes swung up to the large clock in the Rangeman lobby – 1:45. Whatever it was Hector had planned, they were about to find out.

* * *

After discreetly calling Ranger and instructing him to come down to the lobby, _now_, Stephanie huddled with Les and Pam, whispering conspiratorially and glancing at the clock every few moments. Ranger approached them and they quickly brought him up to speed; he had no inkling what Hector could be planning, either. As the four stood, anxious and waiting, Morelli took notice and positioned himself so he could keep an eye on them. If something was happening, this was the pulse of the operation. He could watch them and figure it out, as long as he was discreet.

Two o'clock came and went, and the excited energy Stephanie felt was slowly waning; had something gone wrong with Hector's plan? Were he and the McGoverns in danger? Ranger was following the spate of emotions crossing his wife's face and rubbed her arm reassuringly. He, too, was concerned, but kept his worry in check. Stephanie had run the gamut between feeling guilty, scared, worried, angry...a hundred emotions, in the past few days. He silently prayed for a break, just a small break, for all of them. But for now, all he could offer his wife was the comfort of his body, there for her to lean on and take comfort from. And for Stephanie, that was enough.

As the small group stood just inside the entrance of Rangeman, a fleet SUV pulled up at the curb just outside where they gathered.

"Ready?" Gia asked, her fingers resting on the door handle. With a last fast kiss, Vaughn and Hector nodded and, together, they exited the SUV.

As they hit the sidewalk, they stood, side by side, and waited in silence. They'd rehearsed this, talked it into the ground, and each was sure of their role. After a only a couple of minutes, Lester pushed the doors open and hurried to them, followed closely by Ranger, Stephanie, and Pam.

"Where have you guys been! The cops are here with a warrant, why did you come back?! You need to leave, now, before they see you!" Lester said, low and urgently, glancing over his shoulder while trying to usher them back into the waiting SUV.

Just as Vaughn opened his mouth to respond, there was a shout from the lobby doors.

"FREEZE!" Joe Morelli yelled, rushing toward the group. Big Dog, Eddie Gazarra and Brian Simon followed closely on his heels. As they cuffed Hector and Mirandized him, Vaughn joined a worried Stephanie, his face ashen. This was difficult to watch, but he knew it all hadn't played out yet. Not by a long shot.

Having secured Hector, Morelli approached Giana. She'd stepped away from Hector calmly while he was being handcuffed, into Lester's waiting arms. Lester's relief at having her, _finally_, where he needed her, was short-lived.

By now, most of the Rangeman employees (at least those not on monitor duty) had spilled out of the building to watch the culmination of this mornings search. The remaining police officers were also flitting about, trying their best to look important and official in a bid to get close enough to get a good look at the man Joe Morelli insisted was responsible for the murders they were currently investigating.

"Ma'am, I'm afraid I'm going to need you to accompany me to the station. We need to ask you a few questions pertaining to a murder investigation." Morelli's contrition at inconveniencing her was so obviously for show, and not one person there bought what he was selling. But Joe Morelli was of little concern for the key players. Giana knew they'd squashed his dogged pursuit of her testimony and any hope of a conviction in one fell swoop. Now, it was time to put their plan into action.

Like a choreographed dance, Giana turned her head toward Hector. He was pressed against the SUV, trapped between it and Brian Simon's body as Big Dog guarded him, waiting for the patrol car to maneuver close enough to transition him easily into its back seat. This was the signal Hector had been waiting for. When her eyes met his and she nodded, Hector raised his voice and called out, above the din, "Detective…my wife had better not have a scratch on her when she arrives at the station."

And with that edict, Hector was led to the waiting patrol car and pushed into the backseat. Giana wordlessly allowed herself to be led to a second waiting car, helped into the backseat, and secured before Morelli crawled into the driver's seat. The two cars set off for the Trenton Police Department, leaving the employees of Rangeman, Inc. slack jawed and in stunned silence.


	18. Chapter 18

The shock of Hector's revelation wore off as soon as the police cruisers departed, and after Ranger ordered everyone inside, the men snapped to attention. The few remaining cops were escorted out unceremoniously, their suspect having been arrested and having no more business at Rangeman. As soon as they were alone, Lester voiced what every single one of them was thinking.

"What in the actual FUCK was that?!" he yelled. This was too much, just too fucking much for him. After everything, the months spent growing closer to her, toying with the notion that she might be trustworthy, the hope he'd allowed Stephanie to help him cultivate that maybe, _maybe_ Lester might have a happily ever after, had just crumbled. She was married. To _Hector_. Hector was gay! And dating her twin brother, for Christ's sake! With that thought, Lester's brain stuttered to a stop and he whirled around, searching for Vaughn.

Vaughn stood slightly apart from the rest of the men, hands stuffed in his pockets. He looked bone-tired, on the verge of collapse, and cloaked in sadness. He sighed, met Les's eyes and said, "Could we maybe take this somewhere a little more private?"

Pam raised her hand, waving it timidly. "Shouldn't we be heading down to the station? I'm assuming that's why Gia wanted me here, to help after the arrest."

"She wanted me to fill you in before we head down. That's what my instructions are." was his reply. There was no small amount of sarcasm in Vaughn's voice.

"Seven." Ranger's disembodied voice floated over Lester's head, and Les stepped behind Vaughn and ushered him toward the elevator, mercilessly tapping at his back to encourage him to move faster.

Ranger, Steph, Bobby, and Tank crowded in just as Vaughn called out Pam's name. They held the doors as she stepped onto the elevator. The doors slid seamlessly shut and zipped the group up to Ranger and Stephanie's private seventh floor apartment.

After they entered the apartment and everyone found a seat, Lester made an impatient gesture at Vaughn. "So? You were with them the whole time. Are they, you know…" he paused and gulped. "Married?"

Vaughn nodded solemnly and said, "Yeah. They're married. We went to Atlantic City and they found a little chapel; I was a witness." He gulped and shook his head before continuing. "Hector had the predated paperwork all ready. It's legal."

"It's absolutely _brilliant_, is what it is." Pam spoke up. Every head in the room swiveled in her direction, waiting for an explanation.

"When Gia called me earlier and asked me to be here, she already knew that Hector was about to be investigated and she might be called as a witness." She waited for acknowledgement before continuing. After seeing nods all around, she continued.

"I didn't realize, until I got here, that Hector was being arrested or that Giana would be hauled in for questioning; it's apparent that Gia did. By marrying Hector, they're protected by a law called Spousal Privilege. It actually protects them doubly; communication and testimonial privilege. In laymen's terms, you can't be compelled to testify against your spouse. At all. If they ask Gia anything, she can claim Spousal Privilege and can't be charged with any kind of obstruction charge. They can't even question her any further. And because of the dual communication _and_ testimonial privilege, they can't even ask her if Hector's ever admitted or spoken about committing any crimes or…well, about anything."

The group took a moment to absorb this. Stephanie asked, hesitantly, "So…you're saying Gia married Hector so she wouldn't have to give testimony that might lead to formal charges being pressed against him? She did it to protect him?" Her eyes met Vaughn's, and he smiled wryly. He was on board with whatever operation they were attempting, but clearly not thrilled about it.

Pam chose her words carefully before answering Stephanie. "No, that would be unethical and, if that were proven, she _could_ be charged with obstruction. What I'm saying is that it's lucky that they married, as the marriage is an umbrella they can both be protected under." Pam trusted that Stephanie could read between the lines, and was satisfied when Stephanie smiled broadly and winked at her.

The silence that hung in the air was filled with the thoughts of the room's occupants; awe at the intelligence of the plan, relief that Hector would be safe, and pride in the woman who put paid to the plan. The sacrifice was not unnoticed, and each person in the room silently vowed to themselves to show Giana their gratitude for protecting Hector, in some way. Stephanie stepped into Ranger's embrace, happiness saturating her every thought. Pam felt completely vitalized at the thought that went into planning the surrender, and was very much eager to dip her feet into the legalities of the case. Vaughn's relief was bittersweet; while he understood the mechanics of the plan, he still wasn't thrilled at the idea that his boyfriend was now legally his brother-in-law.

Amid all the emotions and thoughts pervading the room and its occupants, none were so scattered or so strong as Lester's. He thought, shamefully, of how readily he'd believed the worst in Gia; the moment he'd heard she was married, all of his secretly held hope for a future that included her had been abandoned. What did that say about him? Before he could pull himself further into his self-loathing, Lester forced his attention on happier thoughts; Giana was safe. She wasn't AWOL, she wasn't in danger of being arrested, and she was safe. Now, his endeavor would be to keep her that way.

Standing, he turned to Pam and said, "All right. Let's go bring them home."

* * *

Getting Giana released had been relatively painless. The fact that she wasn't under arrest, or a suspect of a crime, weighed heavily in her favor. Pam was a pitbull, Ranger thought bemusedly. She refused so much as a bottle of water for 'my client', and sneered at any cop who tried to approached her. She made it abundantly clear to every official that came into Gia's holding room that "Mrs. Gutierrez has no comment on her husband's investigation, now or in the future".

Morelli was, predictably, incensed at the news that Gia and Hector were married. He denied that it was true, calling it a 'ploy designed to buy Gutierrez a little time'…for what, he couldn't say. But when Vaughn produced all the legal documentation pronouncing them husband and wife, Joe was forced to back off of Giana and went to find Hector's interrogation room.

Ranger called Rangeman's attorney, Tom Hiddlestein, for Hector's defense. A seasoned criminal attorney, he felt that Tom was better suited to protect Hector's rights and ward off any impending charges. Legally, TPD could only hold Hec for 72 hours before they either had to charge him with murder or release him, a fact Pam shared with the men as they waited for news of Gia's release and Hector's potential charges. After only three hours in custody, Giana was released and instructed by a still irate Joe Morelli not to leave town. She exited the holding area, weary and exhausted. She hadn't been to sleep the night before and to say today had been trying would be putting it mildly.

Upon entering the waiting area to find her brother, she was swarmed by men in black uniforms. She was passed from man to man, and hugged and patted awkwardly so much that she considered asking if they were at least going to buy her dinner after.

After being passed off by the last Rangeman, she smiled in gratitude and moved to take a seat next to Stephanie and wait for news of Hector's release from Tom. Vaughn frowned at her.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, one eyebrow raised at her.

"Waiting."

"That wasn't the deal, G. You're supposed to leave as soon as they release you and wait for Hector at Rangeman." The present Merry Men leaned forward, eager to cull more information on Hector's plan.

"I can't just leave him here, alone! That's awful, how can you even suggest that?" Giana pouted up at her brother, painting on her most pitiful expression and staring up at him through her lashes.

Vaughn shrugged and said, casually, "Fine. I guess I'll have to call mom and tell her you got married and didn't invite her to watch."

After flipping her brother the bird and instructing every remaining person in the room to call her as soon as there was any information to be had, Gia allowed herself to be escorted back to Rangeman. Vince jumped at the chance to volunteer to drive her, but Ranger instructed him to stay put, saying he needed a ride-along for a trip he'd need to make tonight. Nodding at Lester, he tossed his keys through the air. Les caught them one-handed and noted that they belonged to Ranger's Turbo and, with a single nod, guided Giana to the parking lot through the front doors of the TPD.

Gia was silent on the ride home. She rolled the window down and leaned her head back, enjoying the breeze. The trip from the police station to Rangeman was a short one, and they entered the garage only a few minutes later. Lester pulled into Ranger's normal spot and killed the engine, then sat, waiting. Gia hadn't made a move to open her door, and Lester decided to follow her lead. He'd missed her terribly, worried for days about her; soaking up a few extra, quiet minutes that didn't belong to him was a soothing balm to his ragged nerves.

"Do you think this whole thing is crazy?" she finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She rolled her head so she was facing Lester and tilted it quizzically.

Les considered his response carefully. "Why do you ask?"

She huffed out a sigh and blinked slowly. He could see the exhaustion slowly catching up to her, and knew his time with her would come to an end soon. "I don't really care so much about people talking, but I do care that the men Hec has to work with might give him trouble over marrying his boyfriend's sister. He's had a hard enough time agreeing to this, I don't want him to regret it."

A smile flashed across Lester's face before he prodded her along, saying, "Is that your concern? That the guys will give Hector grief over marrying you?"

She nodded and her forehead wrinkled, bottom lip puckered and her chin began to tremble. "I'm just…I'm so tired. Everything is bothering me right now, I haven't slept in, like, forty hours and it's all just too much!" And with that, two fat tears slid from the corners of her eyes and she whiffled in a great breath and let it slowly out.

Normally, Lester ran in the opposite direction of female tears. When he saw Gia begin to cry, the only thought present in his conscious mind was to make her happy again. He crawled out of Ranger's Porsche and walked around to the passenger side, opening the door and helping Gia to her feet. Without speaking, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her to the elevator, using his security badge to access the second floor. When the elevator stopped, he guided her through Hec's workshop and through his apartment to the bedroom. Once there, he hunted around in the drawers until he found a t-shirt of Hector's she could wear to bed and handed it to her, motioning toward the bathroom. They hadn't spoken a word since the garage, and Les waited patiently in the hallway for her to finish her nighttime rituals. As she exited the bathroom, she smiled shyly at him. This was exactly what she'd needed to buoy her spirits; silent acceptance and a little pampering.

After helping her into bed and thinking to himself that he deserved some sort of medal for not gawking at her long, creamy legs peeking out from beneath Hector's black t-shirt, Lester smiled at Giana and joked, "This is the second time I've helped you to bed. What happens when my punch card gets filled?"

She smiled shyly and, feeling emboldened by her surreal day, sat up and placed a kiss, sweet as sunshine, very near the corner of Lester's mouth on his cheek.

"Thank you, for taking care of me. I don't think I had the wherewithal to make it from the garage to the bed on my own." She murmured, flushing at the thought of her own boldness only a moment ago.

Les smiled and tucked a red curl behind her ear. "Sweets, it was truly my pleasure."

After letting her know he'd be leaving his security badge so she wasn't confined to Hec's apartment for the next few days and leaving his cell number in case she needed anything, Lester bid her sweet dreams and headed back down to the garage. Ranger had mentioned a ride-along and Lester wasn't about to be left behind. He wanted answers; the sooner, the better. Ranger's anger was a slow burn with a grand finale, usually resulting in lots of casualties. Lester's was more like tossing a hand grenade into a barrel of fish – once the pin was pulled, the explosion was eminent and fast. She may not be his woman, but someone had kidnapped Giana and abused her delicate, beautiful body, and there was a price to be paid for that infraction. Lester Santos was eager to collect.

* * *

After arriving back at the cop shop and a quick, whispered discussion with Stephanie, Ranger instructed her and the remaining Merry Men to wait for news of Hector. He pulled Tank, Vince, and Les aside and informed them that he had a line on Jimmy 'Curtains' Rosolli's location and didn't want to postpone their 'meeting' a moment longer than necessary. If there was a threat to their safety, Rangeman intended to be proactive about it.

Arriving at the home Connie had given him directions to, Ranger parked the car and waited with his men in silence. There was a protocol to this sort of visit, and he intended to follow it precisely.

A couple of Jimmy's hired men approached the SUV cautiously, guns at the ready. After identifying Ranger, the Rangemen were instructed to exit their car and, after a quick phone call, were summarily relieved of their weapons. They were then escorted inside, met by another beefy Italian bodyguard, and reminded to be respectful when addressing Mr. Rosolli, 'if they know what's good for them'.

After being seated and waiting only a short time, Jimmy 'Curtains' entered the small meeting room Ranger and his men found themselves seated in. The proper greetings and introductions aside, Ranger dove right into the reason for the visit.

"I spoke to you before about the new gang presence in Trenton, about the weapons being run and the lack of leads. You told me you weren't aware of any purchases by your organization; I'm just here to follow up on that. I'm sure you've heard, by now, that my wife was kidnapped by these people, as was a friend of hers." Ranger leaned back and waited for Jimmy to respond. Tradition and old-country respect dictated he state his purpose and allow Jimmy to take the lead.

After nodding solemnly, Jimmy spoke. "I did hear about your wife, and I offer my condolences. She's a good girl, always has been. She didn't deserve to be caught in the middle of all this."

With a nod of thanks, Ranger continued. "Mr. Rosolli, I'd like to ask for any assistance you feel you can offer in settling this matter." How the matter was settled, Ranger left open to interpretation.

Jimmy sighed and rubbed his balding head. Admitting any sort of weakness, in his line of work, could prove fatal. He knew this, and he knew Ranger knew this. That being said, Ranger's line of work was not entirely separate from Jimmy's own; same sport, different stadium, he mused. Still, in a business where reputation was sometimes literally a matter of life and death, he needed to cover his bases.

"I do have some information." Jimmy stated, before nailing Ranger with a stern glare. "Information that, if it were to be heard by the wrong ears, would cause me a lot of undue stress and problems for my Family." After receiving Ranger's nod of understanding, Jimmy relaxed a bit and leaned back in his chair before continuing.

"I believe, Mr. Manoso, that your worry is unfounded. The 'problem' has taken care of itself. You and your associates are no longer in any danger. The gun running will stop, the gang violence will cease." Jimmy intoned, and Les couldn't help but think that he was channeling Brando with his proclamation.

"With respect, I'm going to need more to go on than that, Jimmy. This is my wife, and I don't take chances with my wife's safety." Ranger's attitude shifted from a hands-off approach to being right up in Jimmy's face. There was nothing more important to him than Stephanie's safety, and he wouldn't trust it to anyone but himself.

With a deep, chest clearing sigh touted by the long-suffering, Jimmy 'Curtains' Rosolli decided to come clean. He'd worked with Ranger before and knew his discretion was absolute. Besides, he wasn't asking any question or for any assurances that Jimmy himself wouldn't ask for, given that the roles were reversed.

"All right, all right. I did some checking into my books after your call; you piqued my interest, and I needed to be sure nothing was slipping past me. I've been cooking books since I was old enough to add two columns, so I spotted the job as soon as I looked for it." Here the man shifted uncomfortably; admitting he'd been outwitted was no small pill to swallow.

"Carmine Radicci, my numbers guy? He's in charge of those books. So I did a little snooping, had some guys follow him. Carmine was meeting with some gooks, buying some guns with _my_ money and playing Don to these fucking Commie bastards." Here, Jimmy's face began to slowly turn red, the darkening crimson becoming alarmingly prevalent by the second.

"There was no fucking gang. This _cazzo _mook Googled this shit and decided to start a 'branch' here in MY city." The word 'branch' was said with such sarcasm that it was clear what Jimmy thought of this plan.

"So Carmine smuggles some gooks into the country, drills them that they're in this gang, and sets up these fucking tasks or initiations or whatever. Meanwhile, he's buying guns from some Mexican contact he got, THROUGH ME, buying guns with MY MONEY and starts all kinds of rumors, that his little Chink army is selling the big guns, that they're gunning for the Maras, all sorts of crapola. It was like that movie, 'The Game', with that putz Sean Penn? These stupid Fishheads thought they were really a branch of the Korean Dragon Crew. It was all just smoke and mirrors so Carmine could run the Maras out of town and try to overthrow me. ME!" The last word was a strangled shout, and his hired muscle burst into the room, guns drawn, to assess the situation. Jimmy waved them away, annoyed at the interruption, and straightened his tie. He took a few slow sips of brandy, allowing the liquid to burn its way down and relax him before he continued.

"So we figure all this out, and just as we're about to move on it, a dozen or so of these bastards turn up dead in a warehouse outside of Newark. I understand we might have Rangeman to thank for that." He leveled his stare at Ranger, eyebrow arched. Ranger gave one slow nod, saying nothing.

After a few moments of silence, Lester decided to try his luck.

"Mr. Rosolli, where is Carmine now? I'd like to question him, make sure there aren't any clueless would-be bangers out there with some made-up vendetta."

Jimmy Rosolli turned to Lester and gave a truly evil grin. It chilled Lester to the bone; the malice and glee the man answered with did nothing to dispel Lester's unease.

"Oh, he's permanently indisposed, Mr. Santos. He was kind enough to give us the names and locations of his counterparts before he departed, so that's all tied up, nice and neat. We were searching for the remaining few when we discovered that Rangeman so kindly did our dirty work for us. We owe you a debt of gratitude, Mr. Manoso." He finished, turning his attention back to Ranger.

"Not at all, Mr. Rosolli. Glad we could be useful." Ranger answered, trying not to let the crushing relief bleed into his voice. Steph was safe. She wasn't a target, she wasn't a trophy. She could just go back to dodging skips and managing accounts. _Blessed monotony, _Ranger thought, grinning as he reached across the table to shake Jimmy's hand.

Lester was equally relieved at this news. His stomach had been in knots since the news that Gia had been taken, and he felt himself relax, inside and out, when he heard from Jimmy that the threat had been neutralized. He, too, offered his hand to Rosolli and said, "We appreciate your help, Mr. Rosolli, and you can be assured of Rangeman's discretion in this matter."

With a nod, Jimmy 'Curtains' stood and smoothed the lapels of his custom tailored Jersey Mob Boss special issue suit jacket before escorting the men to the door.

The ride back to the police department was silent, but a comfortable silence. Lester was eager to get to Gia and let her know the threat to her safety, and Hectors, was gone – the 'gang' had been disposed of. He knew his window to reach her was limited – he needed to let her rest more than he needed to lay eyes on her, and more than he needed reassurance, he needed to know she was well and rested. When Hector was released – and Lester was sure he would be at this point – he'd have to revert to clandestine meetings of arranged happenstance. With a sigh, Les wondered how much longer those would suffice. A terrible, fleeting thought skittered through his mind…_What if she started dating someone else before I have a chance with her?_

Lester shook his head sharply, once, as if to fling the errant thought from his mind. He didn't want to think about another man touching her body or occupying her attention. He was far past the point of unease; possession, like a white hot spear, lanced through him at the thought of Giana belonging to another man. The thought burned deep in his gut, festering in the neglected part of Lester's soul…the one he had, until recently, ignored the existence of. _But hasn't she proven her worth? _His inside voice chided him. _Hasn't she shown you that she is loyal and loves outright? Hasn't she convinced you yet that she isn't like Michelle or your mother?_ He wasn't sure what course of action these thoughts encouraged, because Lester was of two minds; stay or flee? Leave her to someone deserving of her candor, her beauty…or do what his body, his very will, dictated and snatch her up before she could think to escape him.

With a sigh of relief, he noticed they had arrived at the cop shop and he exited, eager for an update and for a distraction.

_**A/n: For the record, in case there are any bleeding hearts out there reading this…I am not a racist. I don't shop in that aisle, y'all. I actually had to use Google for all the slang words for 'Asian' except 'gook', and that's only because it was used in 'Full Metal Jacket' and since I'm an American, dammit**__**, I have that movie memorized. So don't send me a load of hate mail, I'm busy writing Chapter 19.**_


	19. Chapter 19

**_My Beta totally came through for me on this chapter - thanks, Brittany!_**

_Freedom has never felt so good_, was the first thought that Hector Gutierrez had as he was released from his holding cell. Fifty hours was hardly more than a minor inconvenience; he'd certainly spent a lot more time behind bars than a measly two days, but knowing what waited for him on the outside had made his confinement much more tedious than he remembered it being.

Really, as he reflected on the past two days, it hadn't been too bad. The last time he was in jail, he'd been a gang member who had absolutely committed the crime he'd been accused of and had been summarily punished. He'd been treated like a criminal and had vowed to turn his life around…which he had, as was evidenced by his latest stay. His status as a Rangeman had elevated him above that of a normal murder suspect, and he'd been pleasantly (albeit quietly) surprised at the number of officers and admins that had found an excuse to check on him and offer him some small creature comforts; an extra blanket had found its way into his cell, as had an older Spanish language 'Sports Illustrated' and a small cache of snacks. Really, all he'd missed were Vaughn and his coworkers – friends, he corrected himself. _And my wife_, he thought with a snort.

Once he'd arrived at the processing desk, Robin Russell greeted him in a friendly manner and started going over the paperwork with him. Eddie Gazarra stopped to shake his hand and promised to keep Stephanie update on any developments, knowing she would share them with Hector, before wishing him well.

Noticeably absent from the general booking area was Detective Morelli. Robin whispered conspiratorially that Joe'd been so angry when the chief announced they had to release Hector that he'd turned red, gotten a double nosebleed and had to be driven to the emergency room before he had a stroke. The chief had tried to tell Morelli that there was no physical evidence of Hector's presence at the crime scene and he had, in fact, a documented alibi for the evening, but Joe had gone ape-shit crazy and almost blew up his heart. She'd heard a rumor that while the investigation would remain ongoing, Juniak was considering taking Morelli off this case, and Hector smiled internally at how much that was likely to piss Joe off.

Robin handed over Hector's personal effects and asked him to tell Stephanie she said 'hello', and just like that, Hector was free. He turned and was met by a grinning Bobby and Giana, who was doing some kind of happy-dog-rump-wiggle dance with a huge smile on her face. She was, after all, his wife now, and it had been decided that she needed to be at the station when he was released. _Not that she'd have stayed at Rangeman anyway, _he thought with a smile, and scooped Gia up in a bear hug. They exited hand-in-hand and made their way to the waiting SUV and headed for Rangeman.

It had also been decided that Giana needed to stay at Rangeman for a few more days, in order to give the men time to ferret out anyone out there with a vendetta. The gang had been 'taken care of', according to Jimmy 'Curtains', but Hector didn't want to chance anyone harboring loyalty to Carmine Radicci to make a play for her. Ranger, thoughtfully, had offered to host Vaughn for a few days while any possible loose ends were being tied up, and Giana firmly told Hec that she was staying in Bobby's apartment while Vaughn stayed on two with Hector.

"I refuse to be anywhere in the vicinity of my brother having sex, Hec. I'm not staying in your apartment." She said by way of explanation. "Bobby has a two bedroom apartment on the fourth floor and it's just for a few days; he was nice enough to offer it to me, I'll be fine there."

"That was nice of you, Brown." Hector said frostily, staring a hole in the back of Bobby's head. In the driver's seat, Bobby shrugged uncomfortably and made what he hoped was a reassuring noise while Gia elbowed Hector in the ribs and rolled her eyes.

"I can control myself, you know. I'm not going to take advantage of Bobby or anything. Besides, I'm a married woman now. He'd never dream of encroaching on the sanctity of marriage." Her cheeky ribbing made Hector relax enough to return her smile and they reached Haywood in high spirits.

* * *

Rangeman was not what anyone would call a casual work environment. Precision and outstanding job performance was expected, and celebrations took place outside of the office. Except for today. Stephanie had pulled rank – okay, she'd seduced Ranger and had gotten permission while he was in a post sex haze – and arranged a 'Welcome Home' celebration for Hector. An Ella cake, with reduced sugar frosting and whole grain bakers flour, but a cake nonetheless, sat in the break room alongside balloons and a certificate for two nights at a beach front cabin on the shore. Stephanie thought the least Hector deserved was the two nights he'd spent in jail back, only this time around, he would be in much nicer digs.

After the fanfare ended and the cake was eaten, the Merry Men returned to their various duties and Hector was shooed off to rest in his apartment, Vaughn trailing behind him. At Bobby's invitation, Giana joined him in the gym to start the first of the physical assessments. Purely by luck, Lester had drawn the short straw and was their guinea pig for the day. He arrived in the gym, dressed down and ready, and approached the mats.

Clapping his hands together, he announced, "All right! Let the healing begin!" With a snort, Giana began putting Lester through a series of stretches and low-impact exercises, pointing out his deficiencies to Bobby along the way. After a half hour and a brief run-through of a treatment plan, Bobby excused himself to go type up notes on the session.

Lester turned to Gia and asked, "Want to spar?" with a grin.

She snorted again and snarked. "Sure. I'd say we're pretty evenly matched; why not?"

With Hector tucked away on the second floor and with Vaughn to distract him, Les wasn't about to let the opportunity to spend time with Giana pass him by.

"Come on, I'll show you a few easy defense moves. It'll be fun!"

Stepping onto the mats, Les stood behind her and pulled her snugly against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lowered his head to her ear.

"Say you're dancing in a club," he murmured, "and some guy pulls you against him and won't let you go. How would you get out of this hold?"

She shivered at his close proximity and answered, a little breathlessly, "Assuming he doesn't back off when I tell him to? Push him away?" she guessed, trying to turn and shove Les off of her.

He held his grip and said, "Nope. Try again."

After several failed attempts, Lester showed her the correct maneuver to escape and made her practice it several times. By now, they'd drawn a small crowd of spectators. Someone called out, "We should just have Bomber teach her The Knee and be done with it.", drawing laughter from the men and a confused look from Giana.

"Steph has this move where she uses her knee to shove a guys, um, business up into his abdominal cavity." Les explained. "She's pretty good at it and she's gotten a reputation for it."

Gia grinned and said, "Sounds effective. When do we start training for that?"

Lester shuddered and said, "We don't. You're going to have to talk to Beautiful about that. I can't even mimic it without turning green."

As Lester positioned her for the next hold, Gia said, "You call Stephanie 'Beautiful'." It was an observation, rather than a question. Lester nodded and Giana continued, "Ranger doesn't strike me as the kind of man who lets other men call his wife pet names." She was in a playful mood, and smiled to take any sting out of her words. "How do you get away with it? Do you have dirt on him?"

Lester grinned. "He's family. I've got a whole truckload of dirt on him. I started calling Steph 'Beautiful' well before they got married. She…well, she's beautiful. She's a good person, she helps other people with no thought for her own safety, she doesn't ask anybody anything she wouldn't do for them...she's one of my best friends, really. Maybe that's why Ranger doesn't make an issue over it."

"That's a really sweet thing to say about Stephanie. You should tell her all that sometime; I'll bet it'll make her day. I think women are taught to be helpful and compliant from the time we're children so we don't really think about it being exceptional; hearing that from you would mean a lot to her."

Lester filed that information away. _Gia thinks appreciation is important_. "I might just do that. But you're not getting out of learning these escape maneuvers. Come on, show me how to get out of this one!"

After another hour of teaching her to break restraint holds, Lester relented after she begged for a break. They headed for the break room together and grabbed a few sandwiches and some fruit, settling at the table farthest from the door.

"You did good. With my help, you could be the best." Les said, trying his hand at an Ace Ventura impression. Gia laughed and said, "Stick to security, Santos, I don't think you have a future in comedy."

Making short work of their early lunch, they finished quickly and Lester offered to take her back to the mats and show her a few more moves. She stood to clear their lunch trash just as Vince and Woody were settling at the table with their own lunch.

"I can't." she said. "I've got to go into work. I called out the day I got married." She made a face and chuckled. "Geez, that's probably the weirdest sentence that's ever come out of my mouth. But I really do have a shift to cover. Maybe another time?"

Lester grinned and said, "Definitely." at the same time Vince said, "I could show you some moves." A moment of awkward silence was broken when Vince explained, "I'm proficient in Aikido, I'd be happy to show you a few tactics." He said with a wide smile, staring at Giana and ignoring Lester's glare.

Giana smiled and thanked him, then excused herself to go dress for work. Lester followed her to the elevator to head to his own apartment, still pissy about Vince's interference. Shaking it off, he asked Gia if she was doing okay in Bobby's apartment. She shrugged and said, "Sure. It was nice of Bobby to let me stay; I'm just ready to go home. My mom's been blowing up my phone, doing 'weather checks', just seeing how we're doing. Now that they pulled the guys from her, she's itching to come visit and see for herself that Vaughn and I are alive."

Les smiled and said, without thinking, "That's nice." At Gia's questioning look, he hurriedly added, "That she's so worried about you guys. It must be…nice."

Thankfully, the elevator dinged and he stepped off, holding the door so Giana could exit behind him. She smiled in gratitude and, mindful of Lester's admitted non-relationship with his own mother, said, "You're right, it is nice. I should be more grateful."

They made their way down the hallway toward Lester's and Bobby's apartments and Lester attempted to lighten the mood. "I hear from Mark she makes a mean pot of gumbo."

She grinned and nodded. "It's righteous, and I'm not saying that just because she's my momma. Maybe when she comes to visit, you can come have dinner with us?" She phrased it like a question, and Les jumped on the opportunity.

"I'd like that."

"Her birthday is coming up, and coupled with the lockdown and Hector going underground, I think a visit is imminent. I'll let you know when she sets a date." Offering one last smile, Gia unlocked Bobby's apartment before turning and saying, "Oh! I've still got your security badge from the night I got here, let me get it for you."

Les waved her off. "Later. I've got a temp badge for now."

After making his way to his own apartment, Lester checked his cell phone. There was a text from Mark waiting.

_Hey! G doing alright? She says yes but…_

Lester typed a quick reply. _Seems to be. Staying here at HQ a few days, promised me gumbo when Charlene visits (:_

_We're not telling momma about anything happening, right? _

Les grimaced and typed, _We definitely are not. _

_Clubbing? Soon? You owe me, you've ditched the last few times!_

How to skirt this minefield? 'Gee, I'd love to, but everything I want is taking a shower across the hall and even though it's technically not, grinding on some piece in a club feels a lot like cheating'? That'd go over well, Les mused. He knew, with certainty, how Hector felt about his attraction to Giana. He guessed Mark would probably feel about the same; after all, he'd seen Les in action, and had proven to be quite protective over her.

_Maybe. Overtime scheduled this week._

There, he mused, that should buy him some time. Just as he was turning away to shower, his phone beeped again. Figuring it would be some ball-busting comment from Mark, he went ahead with his shower and redressed; he had the day off and had a few personal errands to run and thought he might spend the afternoon at the shore. Grabbing his phone, he checked the text message from earlier and froze.

There were two stills pulled from the Rangeman security feed of his earlier gym session with Giana, showing his arms wrapped around her and her body curved into his, and another of them standing close together on the elevator. The text message from Hector that followed them read, _You need to stop before I stop you_. That he'd accessed the security feed wasn't surprising, but the fact that he used an innocent training session to harass Lester incensed him.

After reflecting for several moments on the text, Les dropped his phone and his keys and strode purposefully into the kitchen. He opened the cabinet above his stove and removed a bottle of tequila and a cutting board. After slicing a lime, he settled in. If ever there was an occasion to get day drunk, this was it.

* * *

Giana arrived back at Rangeman relatively early; her later patient had cancelled, and the vet she'd worked with for two hours had become well-acclimated with his new prosthetic leg. His mobility was improving almost hourly, and she thought to herself for the millionth time, _I love my job._

Seeing as it was still mid-afternoon, she intended to track down Stephanie to see if she wanted to do something. First, she needed to change, and she'd need to hit the fourth floor for that.

After sending a text message to Stephanie, Giana spied the security badge Lester had loaned her and picked it up. She made her way to Lester's apartment to return the badge, fully intending to slip it under his door. As she was squatting in front of his apartment, she heard a solid _thump_ and a muted curse from inside. She stood and knocked, concerned that Lester had hurt himself. When the door swung inward, she was hit with the smell of liquor almost before she was able to finish the thought, _He's drinking!_

"Hey, I just wanted to return this." She waved the badge limply in front of him, concern dotting her features. It was just after 3pm, for crying out loud, and Lester was hammered! She wasn't sure if she should let Bobby or Stephanie know or just leave Lester to it.

All these thoughts raced through her mind before Lester replied. He smiled at her, lazy and inviting, and said, "Hey there! You wanna come in?" He gestured into his empty apartment with the mostly empty glass bottle clutched in his hand, the movement throwing him off balance and causing him to wobble. Instinctively, Gia grabbed him and steadied him, shutting the door so Les wouldn't make a spectacle in front of the other Rangemen.

"How much have you had to drink?" she asked, easing him toward the small table he had in the kitchen. He needed food or he was going to be in a serious amount of pain in a few hours.

"Lil' bit. Not enough to make me forget, but it's better." He slurred, giving her the same sexy smile as before.

"What is it you need to forget, Les?" Gia asked, trying to keep him talking. If he passed out now, he'd have to lie where he fell; there was no way she could move him. She hurriedly opened his refrigerator and pulled out bacon, eggs, and cheese, intending to make Les a big omelet to soak up the booze.

"Her. Maybe you, too."

This gave Gia pause. She turned to look at Lester, who was staring at her with an intense look on his face. She poured him some juice and carried it to him, before asking "Who are you talking about?"

He snorted and rolled his eyes. It would be comical if he wasn't so obviously hurting from whatever drove him to down almost a quart of tequila on a weekday afternoon.

"Michelle." When Gia only stared at him, he said, "You know, _Michelle_." while making a prompting gesture with his hand.

"I'm sorry, but I don't." She said, turning back to get the bacon started. "Can you tell me about her? Why do you need to forget her?" _And why would you want to forget me? _was her unasked question. She needed to keep him talking until he ate, but now curiosity was playing a bigger part of her motivation.

Here Les sighed and said, in a small and pitiful voice, "Because I don't know how to fix what she broke when she left. Might help if I just forget her."

Oh, God. Feeling like she'd opened Pandora's Box and ashamed of herself for being nosy, Gia left the bacon cooking on the stove and made her way to Lester. Squatting in front of him, she took his hand in both of hers and looked into his bleary eyes before speaking. "I'm sorry, Les. It's not my business but… I'm very sorry for whatever she did." Gia was at a loss, not knowing what happened, but she must have said the right thing because Les tugged her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her. He buried his nose in the crook of her neck and just held her there.

Gia raised her arms slowly, haltingly, and finally sunk one hand into Lester's thick hair while the other rubbed small, soothing circles on his back. He took a deep breath before asking, in a thin voice, "You're not like her, right?"

Still clueless, Gia gave what she hoped was a comforting answer. "I've never intentionally hurt anyone, Les. I'd go out of my way to make sure I didn't hurt you."

Apparently, that was the right thing to say. Les pulled away with a happy smile and said, "See! I knew you were good! But Gee-ah-nah…" he enunciated each syllable with forced clarity, "your bacon is starting to burn."

She jumped up and hurried to the stove, leaving a cackling Lester in her wake. He stood and came lumbering over toward the small breakfast bar before sliding into the seat to watch her cook. He grinned his sloppy, sexy drunk grin and teetered toward the edge of his stool before sliding back into place.

"I like you cooking for me. And I mean that in a totally respectful way. Not in a caveman way." He tried to paint a serious expression on his face and only managed to look constipated, making Gia throw her head back and laugh. When she looked at him again, he had a tender look on his face and he said, wistfully, "I really love that sound."

Fighting a blush and shooting for levity, Gia asked, "Bacon frying?" With a snort and another eye roll, Lester informed her that he needed to use 'the little soldier's room' and shuffled down the hallway.

She spent a few busy moments whipping eggs and crumbling the bacon for omelets before she noticed Les was back, staring her intensely, eyes unfocused and lost in thought. She smiled and asked if he was almost ready to eat, expecting a cheeky answer. Instead, he said, "She took everything, you know."

Gia paused and said, slowly, "Michelle took everything?"

"Mmmhmm. We dated for awhile, like, nine months? Ten months? A while. And I hadda deployment, jus' a training ex-er-cise, an' I came back and she took everything." Here he made a grand, sweeping gesture with his arm, almost upsetting the juice glass Giana had poured for him.

"So…you were deployed and she'd taken everything while you were gone? She stole it?" Gia asked, her heart sinking into her stomach.

"Yup." He said, popping the 'p' while nodding. "I din care about most of it, but losing _abuelo's_ medal was pretty hard." He looked downright dismal as he said this bit. "She pawned it and left with some dude named Andy. ANDY! Is that a pussy name or what?!" he chortled loudly

Gia was appalled, and she was sure it showed in her voice. "She pawned your grandfather's medal?" She searched her memory; Lester had told her the story the night he'd stayed with her, just before she was kidnapped. "The Distinguished Service Cross, the one you scratched your name into?" she asked.

Lester nodded, drunkenly, the movement sending him reeling off balance. "Whoooa!" He giggled and grabbed the counter for support. Righting himself, he continued. "She sold a bunch of my stuff to the pawn shop and left with Andy the Pussy. When I came home, there was no home. I mean, the building was there but there was nothing _in_ there, you know?" He was starting to sound agitated, the pauses between sentences disappearing. "_All_ my stuff was gone, but the medal…shit, I wonder what happened to that? I mean, who **buys** a dead man's medal?"

He was staring at his hands, folded on the countertop, with a haunted look on his beautiful face. Giana plated his omelet and slid it in front of him, then gingerly eased herself into the chair next to him. "Eat." She instructed him in a gentle voice, one hand resting on the small of his back. He seemed to enjoy the gesture and leaned toward her so his torso grazed her arm while he ate the food she made.

As he stabbed another massive bite of egg, he shrugged and said, "I guess I should be grateful the baby wasn't mine, after all." By now, his inebriation was so acute that it took her a minute to decipher what had actually come out of his mouth: _I guessss I sho' be gray-fill th'bay-be wasn my, afder awl._

Knowing Lester probably wouldn't want her having unfettered access into his private thoughts, she ignored the nearly overwhelming need to pry and didn't comment on his admission. Instead, she leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes briefly, thinking, _You poor sweet boy, you've been so misused_. She wondered, briefly, if there were anything she could do to right the wrong that had been inflicted on him, and resolved to speak to Bobby or maybe Stephanie about it.

She also thought of the conversation she'd had yesterday with Stephanie over lunch on the seventh floor apartment. Stephanie'd been very…forceful in her ascertain that Lester had suffered greatly at the news of Gia's kidnapping and had single-mindedly run down any possible lead. He had been, according to Steph, unbearable to be around until Gia had walked out of Bobby's medical suite with a bill of clean health.

Yes, Gia decided as Les finished the dish she'd prepared for him, she owed it to him to try and make this albatross he'd been afflicted with at least a bit more bearable. With renewed purpose, she helped Lester to bed after making him swallow a few Tylenol and a large glass of water. As she pulled the sheet over him, Lester murmured something, his eyes already closed. Gia leaned in, thinking he needed some assistance, and was further cleft when she heard his sleepy voice mutter, "Not like her, not at all…" before soft snores replaced his musings.

As she softly closed the door, she fished for her phone and noticed an earlier reply from Stephanie, asking if Gia wanted to shop this afternoon. Thinking quickly, Gia fired off two texts – one to Bobby, asking him to check on Lester in a bit and make sure he was okay. And a second to Stephanie, citing a change in plans and asking if they might be able to meet in Steph's office. _I could use your advice_, she typed, and let herself out of Lester's apartment in search of Stephanie.

_**A/n: my husband dated a Michelle before he met me, and I detest her. She's a dreadful, life-sucking bitch, so I decided to name Lester's ex after her. This will be my last update until next week – for those in the U.S., enjoy your holiday weekend!**_


	20. Chapter 20

Lester Santos surfaced from his alcohol induced slumber in stages. First was hearing cognizance – he scanned the room, eyes closed, listening for foreign sounds that didn't belong in his apartment in the early morning hours. Satisfied he was alone, he peeled his eyes open with the help of his forefinger and thumb – his room was devoid of light, save the soft glow of a lamp left on in the living room that seeped into his darkened bedroom. A quick glance at the clock revealed it to be just after 11pm, and Les pushed his confusion at the hour away while he examined how he felt, physically. He was pleasantly surprised that he didn't feel nearly as terrible as he deserved to; he didn't remember much about last night – or rather, this afternoon – but he did know he'd drank copious amounts of booze. The reason for his bender eluded him at the moment, but nature was screaming his name so with a groan, he pushed off his bed and staggered toward the bathroom.

After answering nature's call, he made his way slowly toward his living room. It looked neater than he remembered it being when he'd started drinking; maybe he'd had a drunken tidy fit? He'd certainly done worse when he was on a bender. And aside from a cottony dry mouth and headache that always accompanied him after a night of drinking, his only symptom was a slightly roiling stomach. Well, he mused, that was easily taken care of, and made his way toward his compact kitchen to grab a Sprite and some saltines.

The smell of bacon, hanging on the periphery of his awareness, was brought to the forefront as he walked toward the refrigerator. Lester crinkled his brow; had he been cooking bacon while he was drunk? That seemed unlike him; on his best days, he was liable to burn…

…"_See! I knew you were good! But Gee-ah-nah…your bacon is starting to burn."_

The image of Giana, standing in his kitchen and frying bacon for him, deluged his thoughts and for a panicky moment, he wondered if he'd hit on her while he was drinking; she didn't deserve to be mauled while he was drunk. But then why wasn't she here? Had he offended her?

Try as he might, he couldn't remember anything other than a brief flash of her smiling at him, standing in front of his stove while she cooked. After a few minutes of straining to recall anything else, his stomach demanded attention and he grabbed his cold soda and crackers and sat at the breakfast bar. As he nibbled and sipped, he tried again to remember what had precipitated the need to get day drunk in his apartment, alone. Geez, he hadn't been blackout drunk since his Army days; then it was like a rite of passage. But Lester was staring 30 in the face, and his young soldier's body was no longer able to bounce back like it had a decade ago – hell, even 6 years ago, he'd have slammed a beer and gotten on with his day. But now, he was struggling.

As he listed to one side on the stool, leaning on his forearms and slumping forward, he brought another saltine to his mouth, and another memory from last night bled into his conscious.

_Gia, gently stroking his back and encouraging him to eat while sitting next to him. He was sitting in the same spot he currently occupied, shoveling an omelet into his mouth and telling her, "I guess I should be grateful the baby wasn't mine, after all."_

Lester groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, the old ache of betrayal masked by the fresher, sharper sting of embarrassment. Shit. He wondered exactly how much he'd told her about Michelle and the baby last night.

Another flash of memory choked out his current train of thought, and he remembered having gotten a text message with pictures of himself with Giana. Hopping off the stool, he quickly located his cell phone and opened it to his text screen.

_Ah, yes, _he thought, grinding his teeth together. _Hector's text. __**That's**__ what set me off._ With a huff, he tossed his phone back onto the couch and finished his snack.

Feeling slightly better, Lester decided a quick shower might relax him enough to allow him to fall back to sleep, so he made his way down the hallway. Still puzzled and more than a little worried that he'd embarrassed himself or Gia earlier, he let the water warm for a moment before stepping under the spray.

Ten minutes later, with a towel swathed around his hips, Les exited his bathroom and headed for the living room, intent on plugging his cell in to charge and trying to get some more sleep. He rounded the corner and barked out a curse in surprise; sitting on his couch was his future ex-best friend, Bobby Brown, a shit eating grin stretching across his face at having gotten the jump on his Lester.

"Feeling better, princess?" he asked. Lester narrowed his eyes and flipped Bobby off, which only made the grin widen. Bobby put on his best affronted face and lamented, "And here I came to check on you and make sure you weren't lying in your own piss. I should just leave you here alone, but I made a promise that I'd look in on you." Bobby was being intentionally vague, relishing Lester's hungover state and tormenting him, as only men seem to do to enjoy doing to one another.

This piqued Lester's interest; who else had known he'd been drinking in the afternoon? He'd assumed that by staying in his apartment, he'd go undetected. He also hadn't meant to put away that much, so there was no telling whose attention he'd gotten, or by what means.

"To whom?" he simply asked, flopping down on the couch next to Bobby.

The shit eating grin returned, and Bobby said, "Ooooh, I got a text around 5, maybe a little after, asking me to check in on you tonight."

"Just give me your phone, asshole." Lester grouched. Chuckling, Bobby turned it over and Les quickly navigated to the text screen.

_Les had a little too much to drink and he's sleeping it off in his apartment; could you check on him and make sure he's alright? I don't want to leave him all on his own. ~Giana_

Huh. Les sat back, thinking hard. It didn't sound like she was mad in her text, right? So probably he hadn't ruined any chance at ever hosing Giana into thinking he was a decent guy, a guy who she should maybe consider dating. _Christ, _Lester thought as he scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. _I'm batting a thousand today._

Bobby settled back and waited him out. Whatever was eating at Lester needed to be aired out. This was a dance they'd done before, having gone through various Hells together in their military days. The two men had found that confiding in one another, while initially something they'd balked at, greatly relieved the pressure and stress of all the secrets they were obligated to keep. And so Bobby sat, patiently waiting, knowing Les was working up to whatever it was.

He was gratified to hear Les take a deep breath after only a minute. "I think I told Giana about Michelle and the baby last night."

Bobby let out a low whistle, and contemplated what he wanted to say. "How much did you tell her?"

"Fuck, man, I don't know! I don't even remember her getting here, or putting me to bed – unless you did that?" Les asked hopefully. He sure as hell hadn't put himself to bed last night.

"Nope. I got the text and came to check on you, and you were already in bed. There were clean dishes in the sink, so I put those away, killed a little time reading, made sure you weren't going to puke before you could wake yourself up. What do you remember?"

Les considered the question carefully, hoping to elicit another memory. When that failed, he shrugged and said, "She made me an omelet, and I told her the baby wasn't mine. I don't remember anything else about the night. Shit, Bob, what if I told her I'm into her?" Bobby burst out laughing at this, and Les punched his arm.

"It's not funny, dickhead! I don't want her to feel weird around me! Goddammit! Goddamn sneaky bitch tequila!"

Bobby, still laughing, clapped his hands together and smirked. Unable to hide his amusement, he asked, "Would that be so bad? Geez, Les, you act like you're asking a girl to a middle school dance! I've seen you ask out a hundred girls! You've been crushing on her for like, months – just ask her out!"

Lester laughed, too, but there wasn't a trace of happiness in it. He passed Bobby his cell phone, open to the text he'd gotten earlier. As Bobby read it, his smile disappeared. He was silent for a moment before looking meaningfully at Lester.

"You know this is bullshit, right?" he asked softly. "All the shit he told you before – which I didn't realize he was hanging onto still – you're better than that."

Les nodded his head fractionally, thoughtfully, taking his time before he answered. "I'm starting to. Being around Gia, talking with Steph…it's made me look differently at some things. Ranger found his 'happily ever after', Hector's happy and dating…I'm beginning to see how it could be a possibility. I just…have concerns. That shit with Michelle messed with my head."

Bobby Brown was a patient man; you can't exactly train to be a sniper if you aren't. After having been a 'late-in-life' baby and raised as an only child, Bobby's aloof, demanding parents spurned a need for acceptance in him. Bobby sought approval and love through all the wrong avenues in his younger years, and it wasn't until he joined the Army and met Lester and Ric that he really understood the meaning of the word 'family'. He felt Lester's confusion and hesitance as deeply as if it were his own burden, and it pained him to know that Lester still carried this around.

Bobby looked at his best friend and took a deep breath. "I'm going to be straight, Les – the shit that went down with Michelle was bad. Matter of fact, it was the worst. It's every soldier's fear – your woman left you while you were deployed. In your case, it was so much worse because you thought you were coming home to your pregnant fiancé, and you get home to an empty apartment and a note telling you the baby you loved and wanted and looked forward to isn't yours. We've dealt with some evil people while we were on trips to the sandbox, we know what evil looks like, and what she did was fucking heinous. Don't forget, I was there afterwards and I saw how much it tore you up. It's still tearing you up now, but not because you love her and miss her; it's tearing you up because you're letting it color the way you look at every woman you meet and the constant suspicion is eating a hole through you."

Bobby chose to ignore the surprised look on Les's face and leaned forward earnestly before continuing. "You've got to put that behind you if you want to be happy. You can't drag Michelle around with you and bring her into every potential relationship you ever try to have, because three's a crowd, my friend. You can't involve Michelle in every conversation and every touch and every memory you make with this woman, or you're going to end it before you begin. You're going to have to learn to leave that bitch by the fucking roadside where the trash belongs and embrace whatever love comes your way." And with a final nod of his head, Bobby leaned back and folded his arms across his chest.

Lester sat, overwhelmed by Bobby's speech. There was truth in everything Bobby'd just said, and Lester had always trusted Bobby's opinion…he just found it hard to believe he'd been so transparent these past few years. That Bobby had been able to identify the baggage Les was dragging along with him meant two things; one, he wasn't as adept at hiding it as he'd believed himself to be. Sure, he was naturally easy-going and had a sunny disposition, but sometimes being the clown grated on him. Still, he kept it up, hoping to distract anyone from getting too 'heavy' with him. He felt heavy enough all by himself, thank you very much. And two, it meant it was past time to move beyond his time with Michelle and the damage she'd left in her wake.

Standing together, the two men clasped hands and pulled each other into a quick one-armed hug. With awkward alpha-male grunts, they parted and hurried away from each other, Bobby toward the door and Les toward his bedroom. They'd acted like a couple of chicks long enough to last them a year, in Les's opinion.

As he lay in bed, searching for sleep, Lester let his mind wander along the avenue it usually did on such occasions – he thought of Giana, how her smile made him feel like there was nothing he couldn't do and he wondered, for the thousandth time, if there might be a future for the two of them. His phone pinged with an incoming text, and he rolled over to pick up his phone.

On the display was a text message from Bobby that read, _For what it's worth, I think she's great and I like you two for each other._

After that, Lester had no trouble falling asleep. He even managed to do so with a smile on his face.

* * *

The next morning dawned bright, and Lester was eager to get a jump on the day. He'd decided, sometime in the night, to take a leap of faith and talk to Giana, and today was the day. He was up early, showered and dressed in workout clothes. Gia had been favoring a running circuit that took her out to the rec center and back within a few blocks of Haywood lately, and Les intended to meet up with her on her run.

He only stood waiting a few minutes before she rounded the corner on Linwood Avenue. She flashed a smile when she saw him and, not breaking stride, motioned him to follow. They wound their way around the streets until they reached Wetzel ball field and Giana slowed down to a walk. Silently, they did a series of cool down stretches and took turns drinking from the water fountain before settling on the bleachers. Gia remained quiet, rightly assuming Les hadn't gone out of his way to find her this early for no good reason.

"I'm sorry for the way you found me yesterday," he began. "I had a bad morning and I honestly didn't mean to get that drunk." He paused and started, haltingly, his apology. "I'm really sorry – I wanted to apologize – I can't remember everything I said, and if I was out of line-" Giana smiled and opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by the loud wail of a police siren. They turned in unison to see Joe Morelli unfolding himself from a TPD patrol car, angling toward them. Lester had heard he'd been threatened with patrol duty if he didn't act more professionally about the KDC investigation, but he hadn't heard that Juniak had actually followed through on the threat.

"Good morning, Mrs. Gutierrez!" Joe sang out, a mean grin marring his normally handsome face. "How are you this morning?" He took in her close proximity to Lester and sucked on his tooth. "_Tsk, tsk, tsk._ Does your husband know you're meeting other men in the park? You know, if you keep acting like this, people are going to assume there's trouble in paradise."

"Can we help you, officer?" she asked pleasantly, the very picture of calm.

"Oh, no, Mrs. Gutierrez," Joe simpered at her, rocking back on his heels. "I was just out, in the neighborhood doing a patrol and got a call about a suspicious looking man following a woman around. I guess that'd be your goon buddy, here." Joe laughed as though the three were sharing a joke and winked at Giana. "But I do have to wonder what a newlywed is doing out at this hour without your new husband in tow? One would assume you'd have better ways to burn off calories, you being newly married and all."

Lester straightened himself to his full height, a good two inches taller than Morelli, and said, "Your comments are bordering on harassment, Detective…or is it just 'officer' now? I hadn't heard the good news, Joe. Congrats, you're working the same job as the guys who just graduated from the academy." When he finished, he folded his massive arms across his chest and stared at Morelli, a baleful look on his face. Giana nervously inched closer to Les, made skittish by the mounting tension.

Predictably, Morelli turned red and widened his stance. Sneering at Lester, he said, "You think you're hot shit because you and those fucking I.Q. deficient apes you work with beat the system, and the crazy one married this bitch to cement his bullshit story." Lester opened his mouth to interrupt and only just kept his wits about him when he heard Giana whisper, "No, don't." beside him.

Joe continued, turning his attention to Giana. "So now you're got, what? Rangeman's pass-around pussy? Guess all the guys were due a new piece since I doubt Ranger shares Steph anymore –", and that was as far as he got before Lester lunged toward him. Giana shrieked and yanked down on Lester's arm while kicking at his calf, using the disarming move he'd taught her only the day before to try and stop him from attacking Joe.

She managed to slow him down enough that he didn't barrel into Joe, but the damage was done. Joe leapt onto Lester's now exposed back and wrenched his hands behind his waist, all the while yelling, "You have the right to remain fucking silent for **once**, you arrogant prick. You'd better fucking believe I'm going to use anything you say against your smug ass in a court of law. You've got the right to that fancy pants attorney Ranger uses. If you cannot afford an attorney, your rich fucking boss will swoop in and throw money at a problem like he's trying to put out a fire. Do you understand these rights as I've read them to you, fuckhead?"

Gia stood, horrified and near tears, and Lester was dragged into the back of Joe's squad car and shut in. She watched, panicked as Les was driven away in police custody before pulling out her cell. With shaking hands, she dialed Stephanie's number and burst into tears when she answered.

* * *

"Well?" Ranger asked, his face thunderous and pinched. Unscheduled early morning meetings with his attorney were never indicative of good news, and this morning was no exception.

"Simple assault." Tom sighed, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Lester lunged at an on-duty officer with the intent to assault him. If he'd have hit him, they'd tack Battery onto it."

"We've got Giana to thank for that." Tank rumbled in the background. "She told Steph on the phone that Morelli was harassing them and pushed Santos too far, but she used one of his own moves to slow him down before he tagged the cop. Stupid fucker should've known better than to take the bait; word is Morelli's been gunning for Rangeman since he got bussed down to patrol."

"Yeah, well, thanks to Santos not being able to control his temper, Morelli got his shot." Ranger said through gritted teeth. He leaned back in the cheap office chair and closed his eyes, stretching his already cramping muscles. The Trenton Police Department's budget didn't allow for luxuries like cushy office chairs, at least not in the rooms they allowed attorneys to use to meet with their imprisoned clients.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Tank's low voice rumbled, "I don't suppose we could ask Morelli to drop charges, huh Boss?" Ranger snorted and threw an exasperated look at his second, who grinned back. "Just hear the man out before you beat him to death, is all I'm askin'." Tank was one of the few people on this planet who could make repartee in this situation seem relevant.

Before Ranger's mood could improve, however, the door to the room swung open and Lester ambled in, still cuffed. He looked a bit worse for wear, a bruise blooming under his chin and a few new scratches marring his face, but was wholly unscathed. He sat down heavily in the only empty chair and waited for the officer who'd escorted him from holding to leave the room.

Ranger leveled his stare at Lester, who studiously avoided it for a few minutes. Finally conceding defeat, he sighed and said, "I lost my cool."

"No shit."

"I'm sorry."

"Not enough. Assault, Santos. That's not something we can make go away. You know what this does to Rangeman's reputation? Our government contracts? And it's not even some barroom brawl over a piece of ass. You tried to hit a cop because, what, he popped off to you in front of the girl you like?" Ranger's voice never rose above a low hum; for anyone else, that would've been seen as a sign that things were going to remain calm and civil. But this was Ranger, and Lester knew his volume and his anger level were not mutually inclusive.

"He popped off about Stephanie, too." Lester grumbled.

Ranger slammed his hand on the table, the bang echoing in the bare room like a gunshot. "I don't care. You're military, Santos, you know better than to rush the enemy. Do you have any idea how many ways we could've fucked with Morelli to even the score? We stay covert for a _reason_. And now we've got to try and keep your ass out of jail. I'm cashing in favors left and right to keep you out of prison and to keep this off your record; you owe me. And you're paying up now." Ranger straightened his posture and continued.

"You are on a flight to the Miami office immediately after you're released; their armory needs to be inventoried and each piece needs to be cleaned. You'll do the entire thing, **alone, **before you head for the Atlanta office to do the same thing there. There are uniforms and workout clothes already waiting for you at both branches so you won't need to pack. You're welcome to come back when it's finished."

Normally, Lester would have groaned and tried to sweet talk his way into at least getting some help; instead, he leaned forward and said, in earnest, "Ric, that'll take me two weeks; there's something kind of pressing I need to do around here. I'm asking you to reconsider this."

Ranger was already standing, shoving his chair under the table. "Forget it, Santos. You fuck up, you get the shit jobs, that's how we've always run this company. And if you even think of jumping bail, I'll hunt you down and drag your ass back myself." And with that, Ranger turned and glided out of the room.

After a round of swearing and kicking over Ranger's chair, Lester signed his release paperwork and agreed to return to court to face charges; Rangeman, Inc. had posted his bail. When Tank offered to help him with whatever 'pressing business' he had, Lester shrugged it off and simply said, "It's personal."

Tank grinned; he could guess the nature of the 'personal' business. Stephanie had made it her personal mission to 'bond' with Tank, seeing that her husband was his partner. She penciled off one lunch a week for the two of them, and they usually spent it in Tank's office, eating and gossiping…well, Stephanie gossiped. Tank usually just listened. Steph had been lamenting for weeks about Hector being 'unreasonable' and Lester needing to 'make a move already', so he was fairly up to speed on the entire thing.

Being a man who said very little, Tank's scope of compassion was often underestimated. The few people who'd learned that he had cats, for example, were always surprised – he projected a certain vibe that served him well and kept people from feeling _too_ comfortable around him. But Tank was a sucker for a happy ending, Lester was one of his few real friends, and he liked Giana; she reminded him of Stephanie in some ways.

So it was a combination of all these things that prompted him to ask, "Want me to pass along a message?"

Les contemplated it for a moment; it seemed like he was offering up a lot of apologies to her for his behavior lately. With a frustrated groan, he said, "Just tell her…tell her I'm sorry, and I'll see her when I get back."

Nodding, Tank opened the door and led Lester out into the bright sunlight and the black SUV that was bound for Newark airport.


	21. Chapter 21

_**To recap and set the stage…nearly two weeks have passed since Lester was shipped to Miami. He visited Atlanta as well, and is eager to be home. He is ready to explore the idea of a commitment to Giana, and was attempting to broach the topic when Trenton's resident Cupcake Hunter interrupted them.**_

Lester exited the plane with a sigh and a mighty, back-cracking stretch. He ignored the appreciative looks he got from a passing pair of women and started off, following the signs to the pickup area.

He'd contacted Mark a few days ago with his itinerary; he was still nursing a grudge with Ranger (_pouting_, _it's called pouting, Santos_, his inner voice chided) for sending him away just when he'd found the resolve to do something about the feelings he had for Giana. So he'd called Mark to ask for a ride back to Trenton, a request that Mark was happy to oblige.

Not having any luggage to claim, Les made his way quickly to the pickup area and slid into Mark's passenger seat. As he wound around the exit ramps and merged onto 95, Mark filled him in on the small amount he'd missed while away.

Joe Morelli had put in a request for transfer and it had been immediately accepted by the chief of police in Trenton, he explained. Joe was lobbying for a detective position in Philadelphia or maybe Newark, if the rumor mill via Stephanie was to be believed. Also, after having talked with Bobby about Yun-Ji using his club to solicit prostitution, Mark was now down one dancer. He prattled for a few miles about some of the more colorful candidates he'd had before mentioning he hoped Lester hadn't eaten in Atlanta.

"Charlene came up for a few days and the girls insisted I bring you to Gia's to eat gumbo. They were all shelling crawfish and shrimp when I left, it should be near ready." Mark finished. Hearing that he was heading to Giana's house to eat the gumbo she'd promised him was the nudge Lester needed to broach the topic he'd been turning over in his mind almost constantly for the past fortnight; cleaning and inventorying guns gave him a lot more mental downtime than he was accustomed to.

"Listen," he said, then cleared his throat before continuing, "speaking of Gia…I've spent a lot of time around her lately. I'm very...happy around her. I like her, a lot, and I was thinking of asking her out. To date." He finished lamely. The discussion with Mark was like the dry run before he had this talk with Hector, and he harbored no illusions about how that one would go.

Mark was silent for a beat before taking a long, hard look at Lester. "I'm not her keeper; why are you telling me you want to ask her out?"

_How to put this delicately? _"You've seen me with a lot of women." Lester began. "I know she's your friend; I don't want you to misunderstand the situation and try to warn her off. I care about her, I have for a while now. I guess I just wanted to clear the air before I see her again."

Mark took a beat to consider what Lester said before nodding. "Alright, I get it. Good for you, man. I guess she's the reason you haven't gone out with me lately?" When Les made a sound in the affirmative, Mark probed ahead. "Why'd you wait to ask her out? It's been awhile since you've been out."

Les debated on how much to reveal before deciding to just come out with it. "Hector doesn't want me dating her. He told me – actually, he told the company – to steer clear of her. He warned me off a second time, and he's noticed my…interest in her. He's not happy about it."

Mark gaped at him for only a moment before whooping and laughing.

"I'm glad this is so funny to you." Lester grumbled.

Chuckling, Mark shook his head. "You misunderstand, Santos. I can guaran-damn-_tee_ that G doesn't know anything about that. You haven't been around her long enough to see her go all Redheaded Crazy on anyone; you just get to see sweet, mellow Giana. If she knew about this, I'm telling you, Hector would be putting in a transfer request to get away from Trenton. I'm just anticipating how much fun it'll be when she _does_ find out!"

Lester was already shaking his head. "No, no way. Hector's already planning where to bury my body if I don't quit talking to her. I'm not going to be the reason she gets mad at him."

Mark shook his head back at Les and said, "Dude – she doesn't get _mad_. Mad Giana would be like a momma sparrow divebombing you to keep you away from her little nest. Giana goes fucking nuclear evil, Satan's-minions-pissed-_off_. She's usually happy, like, almost always. Maybe 99% of the time. But when she's pissed about something, she makes up for lost time. She told you about Big Delores pantsing me in school, and that's how we became friends, right?" At Lester's nod, Mark continued.

"G wasn't much bigger than me – I was scrawny and hadn't hit any growth spurts in a while, but she was small, too. Big Delores looked like she pounded Big Macs for recreation between inhaling sides of beef at lunch and dinner. Kid was a tank.

"So Big Delores decides she doesn't like me at the beginning of the school year and starts picking on me, just the usual kid shit, until the day she decided to pants me at recess. She'd been picking on Gia, too, but G wasn't worried about it and didn't let it bother her. That same morning, she'd pushed Ditch into the girl's bathroom. Poor kid was in kindergarten and started crying, had to go to the nurse…big sister was not happy. She was already pissed, she saw Big Delores pants me, and she went Ape. Fucking. Shit. Crazy on that kid. Beat the tar out of her before the teachers could pull her off, and then it took three of them."

His story finished, he shot Les a grin and said, "Don't worry, I won't tell her that Hector warned all you guys off her…but I want to be there when she eventually finds out.

"Now," he continued, giving Les a sidelong glance, "you wanting to ask her out…I mean, you're not asking for my blessing, obviously. I hadn't realized that you weren't going out to the clubs because of her; I thought you were just off your game. If you're just looking for reassurance that you can do this...I think you'll be fine, as long as you remember that if she's your girlfriend, she's your _**only**_ girlfriend. But since her muscle-head brother is out of the country, I'm stepping up to bat: I find out you fucked this up, I'm going to make Crazy Red G look like a warm, fuzzy hug. We cool?"

After doing the standard manly fist-bump, the topic of conversation moved on to other less serious things, and they were soon sliding into the only empty space in Gia's small driveway. Les was surprised to find himself a little nervous – he was Lester Santos, he didn't _get_ nervous around girls. There was, however, no denying the longing, fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach and the faint tang of anxiety as he thought about how he'd navigate having this discussion with her in what appeared to be a houseful of people.

Stepping out of Mark's car and making his way toward the house, Les was pleased to note the evening air felt noticeably cooler than when he'd left; fall had begun to creep into Trenton during the two weeks he'd been out of town. It was perfect gumbo weather.

The first thing Lester noticed when he stepped through her front door was the mingled happy voices, blending together harmoniously in their chatter, coming from the kitchen. The living room was empty, and it was clear that dinner was well underway and that everyone was drawn to the food prep area.

Entering the kitchen together, Lester and Mark were noticed first by a small blond girl, around four years old.

"DADDY! Come smell my hands, they're stinky!" she crowed happily, and everyone laughed together. Lester'd met Sophie Tatum a few times, but he was surprised to see her here; then again, he remembered Mark telling him that Charlene was crazy about Sophie, and Sophie equally enchanted with Giana's mother, so it made sense that she'd be here today.

Charlene herself stepped forward, giving Mark a brief air kiss before explaining that they'd put Sophie to work shelling crawfish. "Many hands make light work, and it's good that she learn that early," she reasoned before turning to greet Lester.

"Lester, it's wonderful to see you again! I'm glad you made it back from your business trip in time to have dinner with us; come, settle in. We were just discussing colorful family members; Stephanie was sharing a story about her grandmother." She managed to direct Lester to a cutting board holding raw okra that needed to be sliced while she was welcoming him. Stephanie greeted him with a hug and he murmured a soft 'hello' to Vaughn and Lula, and managed a nod in Hector's direction. He snuck a glance around the kitchen as Steph resumed her story about Edna Mazur trying to make change from a male stripper's g-string last weekend, looking for Giana. He was disappointed only for a moment before he saw a movement out of the corner of his eye.

Gia emerged from the hallway restroom and made her way back toward the kitchen. When their eyes met, Les felt that same telltale _zing _he'd felt the first time he heard her voice, way back when they'd bugged Hector's table at Pino's, and it made him smile. Giana returned his smile and made her way to him.

As Charlene was prattling away to the group that in the south, they didn't hide their crazy family members away in the attic like some sad European novel, they dress them up and bring them down into the living room to show them off, Gia reached Lester and wrapped one arm around his waist while she raised her head to peck his cheek.

"Welcome home." She whispered, careful not to interrupt her mother's story. _Home, _Les thought with a smile. _I could get used to that._

Dinner was wonderful, and Giana had been right – Charlene's gumbo was amazing. At dinner, Sophie had insisted on sitting in Giana's lap, and Gia was happy to have her there. Sophie, being four and a fan of all things princess-related, was under the misassumption that Gia was not just her godmother, but her _fairy_ godmother, and they had a fun few minutes where they tried to explain the difference to her. All in all, it was a low-key, homey evening, and not one that Lester could have pictured himself enjoying even a few months ago. Now, however…he could say with certainty that there was nowhere else he'd rather be.

The only thing that marred the evening (besides Hector shooting him a warning glare when he settled next to Giana on the sofa) was the fact that Lester's plan was impeded by the houseful of people. He couldn't very well ask her out while her mother was right there, so he waited with barely concealed impatience for the opportunity to get her alone.

That plan was quashed when Vaughn asked Gia, "What time are you leaving for Indianapolis?"

"Not too early." She answered, stretching contentedly. "My flight leaves Newark at 10am, day after tomorrow."

"You're going to Indianapolis?" Lester asked, forgetting to shoot for a casual tone and sounding every bit as surprised as he felt.

"Yeah. I've got a work obligation; they need me to go to a workshop. I'll only be gone four days." Her tone sounded almost apologetic, and Stephanie sighed. She was going to beat Hector for trying to keep those two apart, she thought to herself.

Shortly after that, Mark stood and announced that he and 'Fee', as the little girl was called, needed to head back home. The others took their cue and everyone rose to head out, thanking Charlene again for dinner. Lester knew when he was licked, and decided that the time was not exactly opportune for romance. Promising himself that as soon as Giana was back he'd fine some time to ask her out, he scooped her into a tight hug and wished her a safe trip before folding himself into Stephanie's car for the trip back to Rangeman.

* * *

The following day passed like many others before it for Lester. Up early, work out, take an early shift at work. Two hours of monitor duty, working in the gun range with Bobby, then a few residential system inspections. By the time he reached his apartment on four that evening, he was physically beat. Mentally, he was at odds – the waiting was making him antsy. Waiting for Giana to leave, to stay in Indanapolis for four days, waiting for her to return and waiting for the right moment to give her the opportunity to shoot him down entirely… he was really, _really_ not a fan of waiting. Still, there was little to be done about it so he showered early and took a rare sleep aid, resolved to get a full night's sleep.

Stephanie's call came in to him just before he retired for the evening. She had a few skips to pick up early, drunks who would be less likely to put up a fight if she got to them before they were sober or hungover, she explained. Hector had a commercial installation on schedule, and she was wondering if Lester would partner with her. After agreeing to meet at 8am, they bid each other good night and ended their call.

The next morning went off without a hitch – Stephanie and Lester managed to take in Earl Forster and Melvin Baylor without incident. They were repeat offenders, both arrested for public drunkenness, and Steph had the process down to a science by now. To celebrate, they went to Chevy's near the mall and shared an early lunch break. They took their time, trading their normal before making their way back to Rangeman around noon.

As the elevator reached the 5th floor office space, Lester and Stephanie exited together and moved past the control desk, intent on finishing some paperwork this afternoon, when they were stopped by Hal.

"Sir," he stood as he addressed Lester, "Ranger would like to see you in his office. He asked to send you in as soon as you returned."

"Great, he probably wants to chew me out some more," grumbled Lester, making his way to Ranger's office, Stephanie close on his heels.

"Well, he can just suck it, Trebek. He already sent you away for two weeks; it's not like every guy in this office hasn't wanted to punch Morelli, especially in the last few months." Stephanie kept up her quiet ranting the entire way to Ranger's office. She stepped neatly around Lester at the door and let herself in first, the glare she shot at Ranger making it clear that she was staying. Lester had to smile; Stephanie was a good friend.

As he stepped through the doorway, Ranger said, "Close the door, Santos."

The two men regarded each other a moment before Ranger deliberately leaned down to retrieve something from the floor. He stood, holding a small brown box in his hands. It had a large 'sign for delivery' notice stamped on the front, as well as a tracking number posted along the side. Taped to the top of the box was a blank white business sized envelope, standard in any office.

"What's this?" he asked, reaching to take the box from Ranger's proffered hand.

Ranger shrugged. "Not sure. Giana came by earlier, a little before 0900 and asked for you, and when Hal told her you were out with Stephanie, she asked for me. She gave me this and told me that I needed to give it to you, and I was 'absolutely not to pass it off to anyone else'." He sounded amused. He'd humored her, of course – she was his wife's friend and more importantly, she'd come through for Hector in a big way. Carlos Manoso was not a man who passed love notes around, but he _was_ curious to see what she'd left for his cousin.

"Uh, thanks." Lester, confused, turned to leave the office before Stephanie squealed, "No! Open it in here. It's more private than your desk."

"More like 'Stephanie wants to know what's in the box'." He teased her, setting the letter aside; _that_ he planned to open and read in private. Using his pocket knife to cut through the packing tape and open the flaps, he lifted out the box's contents. Inside was a wad of bubble wrap that encased a wide blue velvet box, the kind of box that jewelry came in. Curiosity piqued, Lester opened the lid to view its contents and unknowingly change the course of his life.

Nestled in the display folds of the box was a cross, molded from bronze, two inches in height and just a hair shy of that in width. An eagle, wings stretched wide, sat in the center of the cross, resting above a scroll that bore the inscription 'FOR VALOR'. With trembling hands, Lester turned the cross over and gasped when he saw his name, scratched by his own small child's hand with a tenpenny nail he'd found in his _abuelo's_ garage.

Time, noise, awareness…they all ceased, and in that moment, Lester was rocked to his very soul at the intensity of the feelings that rushed through him - wonder, want, and awe fighting for dominance, he took a moment to savor the feeling of belonging that wrapped itself around him; he was wanted. He was cared for. He was precious to someone…he was precious to Giana.

Hope, like a fire, spread through his body until the very tips of his fingers sung with happiness. He knew, without questioning the source of the realization, that the impact, the depth of this act would never affect him on anything less than a sacred level.

"Is that the one?" Stephanie asked, her voice soft and reverent. At some point, Ranger had come out from behind his desk and was standing beside Stephanie. Clearly, he recognized the medal, too, and a smile was overtaking the look of disbelief he wore.

"The one?" Lester croaked. The significance of the gift he held in his hands was slightly overwhelming and focusing on anything but his grandfather's medal was proving difficult.

Stephanie hesitated a moment before saying, "Maybe you should read the letter."

The letter. Lester had forgotten about the plain envelope taped to the box; being careful not to drop the velvet case, he pulled the envelope from his pocket and opened the seal.

_Les,_

_After you told me how you lost this, I knew you needed to have it back. Stephanie helped me, she can give you the details (I didn't tell her anything private, just that your abuelo's medal wound up in a pawnshop)._

_I wanted you to know that even though there are women in this world who are capable of doing awful things, there are also women capable of undoing them. I hope this brings you some closure._

_- Gia_

After taking a moment to absorb what was in the letter, Lester turned to Stephanie. "She said you helped her?" he asked, his voice soft.

"Um, yeah…I hope that was okay?" When Lester only nodded, she continued. "She said that you'd lost it in a move and that she wasn't sure of any other details, but it might have gone to a pawn shop. So I did a search on you, past addresses, and found out you were in Atlanta when you, um, lost it. I called the Atlanta office and Chet helped me find a good P.I. in Atlanta. So Giana contacted him and explained what happened; he went to the pawn shops around your old apartment and got a bite – I guess selling a military medal leaves an impression," she sniped, crossing her arms indignantly.

"Apparently the guy who bought the medal from the pawnshop is a regular, so the P.I. was able to track him down. He told Giana that he was going to pose as the attorney of the 'injured party' and would like to resolve the issue without involving the courts." Here, she grinned wickedly and winked at Lester. "I guess it worked."

Returning her grin, he scooped up the box and stood to address Ranger. "I'm going to Giana's house so I'm not going to be able to finish my shift." His voice was as firm as his resolve; he had no intention of delaying this any longer. It was happening, and it was going to be good.

Stephanie jumped to her feet and hopped around, clapping excitedly. "Go! Go right now, go to her house and sweep her off her feet!"

Ranger smiled and shook his head; his wife was amusing him again. "Babe, she was headed to the airport."

Stephanie squealed and fist-pumped the air. "Yes! Ohmigod, GO TO THE AIRPORT! That will be SO much more romantic than just going to her house! Go, stop her before she leaves!"

"Wait, what time is her flight?" Lester asked, not bothering to hide his smile. Stephanie amused him, too.

"Ten! It was at ten!" She cheered, still dancing around.

"WHY DO YOU SOUND SO HAPPY?! I MISSED IT!"

"I can't help it, I'm so excited! You love her and now you're going to tell her and we'll both be in love and live happily ever after!"

The glow that was now burning inside his chest was inflamed by Stephanie's enthusiasm, and he found himself grinning along with her. She gasped and said, "You. Should. Fly. To. Indy! Surprise her there!"

When Lester shook his head, she put her fists on her hips and pouted. "Why not?"

"She's working. I don't want to try and fit in this conversation between seminars or meetings, Beautiful. Besides," he said, turning toward Ranger's office door, "I need to have a talk with Hector first."

As he walked from Ranger's office and toward Hector's, he heard Stephanie whoop and laugh, a combination that further buoyed his spirits and propelled him toward the stairs.

* * *

Hector Gutierrez could be aptly described as a magician – that was the only way to explain all the technical wizardry he was capable of. For example, this morning alone he'd been able to locate and bug a highly sought-after piece of unlicensed technology that was in the possession of a government, intent on using it to obliterate a nation. While this project was Rangeman sanctioned, it was not Rangeman business. It was one of the many favors Ranger performed so that he might call upon another man for a favor one day. Such is the life of the mercenary.

Just as he was congratulating himself on a job well done and considering the possibility of surprising Vaughn in the city tonight, there was a pounding on the door. Since the number of people who had access to the second floor was finite and Ranger wouldn't make his presence known so loudly, Hector was pretty sure he knew who his visitor was. As he made his way to the door, he thought back on the conversation he'd had with Vaughn the night they'd met for gumbo at Giana's house. After everyone was gone and Gia and Charlene were in bed, they'd laid awake, staring at each other and sharing nonsensical pillow talk.

"_I think Lester likes my sister." Vaughn had said, a smile gracing his handsome face._

_Hector had made a rude noise in the back of his throat and grumbled back, "He'd better back off of her; my patience with that man is running thin."_

_Vaughn had crinkled his brow adorably, _Hector recalled, _and said, "What do you mean, your patience is running thin? Did you __**tell**__ him to back off of her?" When Hector hadn't responded, Vaughn had groaned and rolled onto his back._

"_Shhh! Do you want your mother to think we're in here getting down?!" Hector had hissed at him while throwing a worried glance at the door._

_Vaughn had gaped at him before smothering a laugh with his palm. "What, you're scared of my mom now? You'd better watch out for my sister if she finds out you were meddling. What were you thinking?"_

_Hector had sighed and given Vaughn a brief rundown of Lester's 'dating' history and finished with an expectant eyebrow raise at his lover. Vaughn had patiently pointed out that he, himself had gotten around plenty before Hector had come along. "And then I met you and that was it. I left it behind and I haven't looked back once. So you can't make me believe it's impossible the same thing can't happen for my sister. I, for one, would love to see her as happy as we are."_

With Vaughn's words ringing in his ears, he unlocked his door and opened it wide, quietly assessing Lester Santos. He hadn't actively disliked Lester before he started sniffing around Giana; rather, Les was a man on Hector's periphery. He knew Lester to be trustworthy because Ranger trusted him, and funny because he kept the other Rangemen in high spirits, but beyond that they hadn't really had a personal relationship. Now, however, it seemed that Hector couldn't take two steps in any direction without crossing Lester's path.

Deciding that his fruitful morning dictated his mood be accommodating, Hector gestured for Lester to enter his work area before turning to make his way to the desk that sat in the center of the room. Hector heard the door shut and Les follow him, and that made Hector grumble; if Les was already playing by Hector's rules, chances were he was coming with news Hec would find unpleasant.

As the two men sat facing each other, regarding each other, waiting each other out, Hector had a moment of utter clarity – this whole thing was ridiculous. He wasn't Giana's father, and even if he was, she was a grown woman. The reality was he had no governing opinion in who she kept company with and, as he remembered Vaughn's words, he doubted that she'd appreciate his interference. Even as he realized all these truths, he was still determined to protect her virtue from preying men…men like Lester.

Sensing a flux in Hector's resolve, Lester took a breath and began.

"I know we've discussed this - several times, actually – but I wanted to come to you, out of respect to this brotherhood, and tell you that I _am_ going to pursue Giana. I know that you think my intentions are only to get her into bed, but I'm here to assure you that is the **farthest** thing from the truth."

Hector sat back in his chair and regarded the man before him. Lester was earnest, that much was obvious, but he was also very sure on the topic, his conviction absolute. Deciding that a resolution was needed before Lester left this floor, Hector spoke.

"What is the truth, Santos? All I know of your interest in women contradicts what you're saying now."

Steeling himself, Lester took a long, slow breath in to steady his voice before looking Hector in the eyes and saying, "I'm falling for her."

_This isn't just serious. It's critical_, Hector thought before leaning forward again. If Lester had the guts to come down here and confront him and the balls to tell Hector that he was falling in love with Giana, the man deserved to be heard. But first…

"I love her, too." He said, gauging Lester's reaction. Les's eyes narrowed a bit and his jaw tightened, almost imperceptibly. _Good boy_, Hector thought, finally allowing a small smile to tug at the corners of his mouth. "She is a sister to me. Her well being is dearer to me than my own. She did not come to me, looking to run me off. She looked at me and didn't see the tats and the scary face. She looked past – "

"- past all the shit you secretly hated about yourself, like it wasn't ever there to begin with?" Lester interrupted. "Yeah, I get it. I really, truly do; she did that for me, too."

Hector considered that for a brief moment before offering his hand to Lester. He could see now the fallacy of his actions; how he'd treated Lester the same way he himself had been treated most of his adult life. The irony of that was not lost on him, and as he shook Lester's hand he silently promised himself that Les would have the same clean slate that Giana had afforded him.

Rising together, Hector surprised them both by slapping Lester on the back and offering him a smile. "She's out of state, you know." He pointed to Les. "You going to call her?"

Lester shook his head and grinned, the full Monty smile, showing every one of his even white teeth. "No, no phone calls – for once in my life, I'm going to do this right."

And with that, Les and Hector parted ways, filled with newfound respect for one another; the former with a new spring in his step and the latter filled with a fresh sense of peace.

_**A/n: The little speech from Charlene about crazy family members is, of course, Julia Sugarbaker as portrayed by Dixie Carter from 'Designing Women'. Julia Sugarbaker is the Patron Saint of all southern women and my Beta's fairy godmother, and it took me quite a few chapters to find space to work in a 'D.W.' reference. **_


	22. Chapter 22

"_A thousand miles seems pretty far, but they've got planes and trains and cars, I'd walk to you if I had no other way…."_

Lester Santos hummed softly to himself as he waited. He'd been singing to himself quite a bit the past few days, he thought bemusedly, and smiled at the reason.

"_Our friends will all make fun of us and we'll just laugh along because we know that none of them have felt this way…"_

As he waited and hummed, eyes searching the crowd, he leaned against the wall and did his best to just breathe. He'd vacillated between nervous and eager, anxious and excited the past four days, and now that he was actually here at the airport, waiting to surprise Giana when she arrived in Trenton from her work trip he was…well, he was feeling a combination of them all. Bobby had made fun of him only yesterday, asking where the self-assured ladies man had run off to, and Lester's only answer was, "This _matters_. No one else did," which shut Bobby Brown up pretty effectively.

A crush of newly deboarded passengers flowed past Lester, toward the baggage claim area, before he finally spotted a shock of auburn hair twisted into a fashionable bun. A few seconds later, her face came into view, and he had the chance to observe her, unseen, for a few moments.

"_Oooh, what you do to me…"_ he sang softly.

She was beautiful, no one would argue that. She tended to dress in a way that didn't draw attention to herself, but Les had spent enough time sneaking glances at her and one glorious and very memorable day at the beach with her to know that her body was curvy and feminine, soft in all the right places. Oddly (for him, anyway), what he found himself thinking about the most the last few days were the things about Giana that weren't immediately discernable to other people; the way she bit not the nail itself, but her cuticle when anxious, or they fact that she intentionally sang the wrong lyrics to some songs, having changed the words to help her remember material for college tests. The way she used tablespoons instead of teaspoons for eating because 'teeny sips are for sissies'…and the fact that she'd hired an investigator to find the thing that, up until he'd met her, he'd valued the most.

And so he watched her for just a moment, so unaware and breathtaking, soaking up one final minute of quiet reflection before stepping behind her just as she raised her fingers to her lips.

"Don't bite." He murmured near her ear, causing her to jump and spin toward him, eyes wide. "Your cuticle; don't bite it. I'll grab your bag." She looked uncomfortable, and for one brief moment he considered abandoning his plan.

He shook that idea off, fast; he doubted very sincerely his ability to continue pretending that he wasn't crazy about her. So he smiled sweetly at her and turned away to pull her luggage from the carousel.

"Ehrm, it's the purple one." Her voice floated from behind him. Throwing a smile over his shoulder toward her, Lester reached and hooked the bag she'd directed him to and made his way out of the throng of travelers, mindful that Gia was close behind him.

They made their way toward the car in silence, and it was only after her bag was stowed safely in the trunk and they were both buckled in that she turned to him and said, "I, um, thought my brother was going to pick me up," before raising her fingers to her mouth again. Les gently took her hand and replaced it on her lap, smiling reassuringly at her surprised look.

"Something came up so I volunteered to get you." He said with a shrug. What he didn't add was that the something that came up was the fact that he'd offered Vaughn a bribe to stay home and let Lester pick her up from the airport.

"Oh…thank you." Came her soft reply before she turned toward the window. Frowning, Lester backed out of the parking spot before cruising through the airport toward the exit.

"Hungry?" he asked, his tone purposely casual. He was planning a quick detour before they headed back to Trenton, and he was counting on things going well…otherwise it was going to be one long ride home.

Shooting a quick smile at him, not meeting his eyes, she said, "I'm alright," before turning her attention back to the road. This earned another frown from Lester before he steeled himself to try again.

"I'm actually pretty hungry, and Ella packed some snacks. Do you mind if we stop? There's a park a few miles over." A park he'd mapped on Google and spent the better part of an hour searching for photos of to make sure it was nice enough…but still, a park.

Her surprise was evident in her voice. "Uh, sure, that's fine." She was nervously picking at her cuticles now, having been called out twice for biting them already. Lester felt his own nerves start to fray; did she suspect what he was going to do? Was she dreading this conversation, and the prospect of turning him down?

Pushing those thoughts away and sucking in a fortifying breath, Les steered them toward the park. He'd already decided once today that he needed to know, one way or the other, where he stood. He wasn't changing his mind now. Granted, there was a _**lot**_ riding on this, but he'd survived worse. And he could always wear her down…

Reaching the park, he pulled around to what he'd deduced was the most private picnic area and shut the car off. He unfolded himself from the driver's seat before pulling the cooler Ella had, indeed, packed per his request and motioning for Giana to sit at the table.

She was even more anxious now than she'd been in the car, he noted unhappily. _Shit_. _Well, too late now, soldier. We've got to power through this._

His earlier joviality dampened by uncertainty, he proceeded to next to her on the bench. He turned to her and opened his mouth, intending to confess everything, when she blurted, "I'm sorry!" before biting the insides of her lips together.

Lester blinked, then blinked again. He opened his mouth to speak and when nothing came out, shut it and crinkled his brow in confusion. Seeing his expression, Giana rushed on. "I'm really sorry for sticking my nose where it didn't belong; I was trying to do a nice thing by hiring the P.I. but still, I shouldn't have meddled where it wasn't my business. I mean, that's why we're here, right? So you don't embarrass me in front of anyone else when you tell me to mind my own business? I appreciate that, I do, and I'm so, so –"

It took Les a minute to catch up. When he did, the warm, affectionate feeling he was beginning to associate with Giana cocooned him and he thought, again, of how much this woman meant to him. Holding a hand up, he stopped her mid-sentence just as she was about to apologize again.

Taking her hand in his, he leveled his green eyes at her violet ones and said, "One, don't ever apologize for being a good, thoughtful person; not to anyone, and especially not to me. I love what you did. In my entire life," here he paused, letting himself feel the weight of the truth in his statement, "no other person has done something so big for me. It was selfless and beautiful and I appreciate it more than I could tell you in a lifetime; thank you, for that.

"Two," here he had to pause and clear his throat, "nothing came up with your brother. I asked him to let me pick you up because I wanted – needed – to talk to you, privately." Her expression had gone from anxious to relieved to curious, and Lester smiled at how revealing her face was; another small treat to file away and turn over in his mind at his leisure.

_Showtime, Santos_. "I'd like to date you, exclusively date you." He amended quickly, trying to gauge her reaction. "I don't want to come on too strong, but asking you out on one date isn't what I'm interested in. I like you, a lot, and I think you feel the same for me. I want to see where this goes, Gia…more than I've wanted anything in a good while." The last part of his little speech hadn't been planned at all, and oddly enough, it was the part that caused her shoulders to relax and a sweet, chaste blush to stain her cheeks.

"I'd like that, too." She breathed, smiling shyly at him before shifting her eyes away from his and back again, clearing her throat as she did. "If we, um, date, I want to be the only person you're dating." She rushed on before he could reply. "I know that might seem needy, especially right now, but I don't share." She flushed again, her brazen statement unnerving her resolve.

Lester didn't miss a beat before saying, "There's no one else I want, Gia. Just you." Pleasure at his admission made color bloom across not only her cheeks this time, but also her neck and collar; he wondered for a second how far the glow extended before snapping his attention back to her eyes. She huffed out a breath and said, "I'm sorry; that was ugly of me to assume. It's just…" before trailing off.

"Just what?" Les asked, now circling his thumb and stroking the back of the hand he was still holding. His attention was split between focusing on their conversation and _how good_ it felt to be able to touch her, finally.

She fidgeted, clearly not comfortable, before saying, "Um…well, some of the guys were talking about you once…" Understanding caused Les to slide a fraction closer to her, trying to reassure her with his presence as well as his words.

"You heard some stories about me with different women…from Vince?" He took a shot in the dark; he'd planned on being honest with her about his past when the topic came up, he just hadn't counted on it being so soon. The look she gave him confirmed his suspicion. _Little cockblocking maggot_. "There were a few years where I had no interest in being committed to one person; I never lied about it to any woman I saw." That was as much as he wanted to share right now, and thankfully, Giana held her hands up.

"Say no more; I'm sorry I brought it up. It's not my business; I just wanted to make sure you knew that _this_," she gestured at the space between them, "is a one-woman show."

Smiling and taking her free hand in his, Les leaned closer so their faces were only inches apart. "You know," he purred, "it's been years since I've been someone's boyfriend." This time, her blush was so intense he could feel its heat against his face, and he reveled in the power he felt at the notion he could elicit this reaction from her, just with his voice.

Painstakingly, Lester eased forward, slowly closing the distance between them. He paused a hairsbreadth from her lips, giving her time to acclimate or to refuse him, and when he was met with only her ragged breathing, he sealed the gap and pressed his mouth to hers.

He'd heard, in song and poetry, how 'all noises ceased' when two lovers kissed; that they became oblivious to all external stimuli and became lost in one another. If he weren't so intent on the task at hand, he would have scoffed at this notion…because never had anything tasted as sweet as Giana's lips. No sound was more divine than the soft moan that came from her mouth as he licked her upper lip, and nothing had ever looked as vibrant as her long, black lashes, resting against her cheekbone as she closed her eyes and kissed him back. His own pounding pulse was thunderously loud and he wondered if Giana could hear it as well; surely it was as obvious to her as it was to him? There was no cessation of sound or awareness; Lester was acutely aware of Every. Blessed. Thing. that was happening while they were locked together. _This is one of those moments_, he thought as his mouth moved over hers, _that I'm going to remember for the rest of my life._

He broke their kiss and pulled back, fractionally, to compose himself, and couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him when Giana followed his movement and captured his mouth with hers again. The thrill of that, of Gia being unwilling to stop their first kiss, made a satisfaction so potent bubble in his chest that he was wholly unable to stem the groan that followed.

Hearing Lester's groan, Giana pulled back with a look bordering on regretful; a public park was not the place to loose all sense of control, so she did the sensible, un-fun thing and smoothed her shirt while grinning at Les.

"So do you really have a snack or was that just a clever ruse?" she asked while batting her lashes at Les.

Grinning at her playful mood, Les winked and produced some cheese cubes and cut fruit. Also in the cooler were two liters of water and a handful of foil squares that, he discovered, were expensive chocolate.

"I kind of wish now that I'd taken you someplace nice to eat." He admitted while they picked through the food. "I wasn't sure how this was going to go, so I wanted to be someplace private where you wouldn't feel obligated to sit through a whole meal."

"This is perfect; it's quiet and it's a great day to eat outside." Her wide, happy smile mirrored his own before she said, "You thought I wasn't going to want you, too?"

What she said was innocent, but the way she phrased it made things south of Lester's waist tighten deliciously. Self-denial had never been his strong suit, and as determined as he was to show Gia where his interests lay…well, he was having a hard time remembering all of that when she said she wanted him, too.

"It was a possibility." He said, shrugging one shoulder.

She only smiled and shook her head before returning to her snack. They chatted about their missed time, what he'd been up to while she was in Chicago and how her conference had gone. It was the same easy flowing conversation he'd always had with her, the only difference being that now, he was allowed to touch her. Twice he tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear and twice, she smiled and blushed. She rested her hand on his knee when she turned to face him while he told her about an especially long stakeout where Stephanie drank a thermos of tea to help her stay awake and they had to abandon post three times so she could use the restroom. Her laugh at his story warmed him so much that he couldn't help himself – he leaned forward to steal another kiss.

This time when they broke apart, he sighed and said, "I should get you home, you probably want to unpack and grab a nap. Can I take you out tonight, celebrate your homecoming?"

"Sounds good." She said as they stood to clear their mess. After buckling in, Lester reached over and took her hand, threading his fingers through hers. _Way to play it cool, Santos_, he thought. Then again, she didn't seem to mind in the least, squeezing his fingers for good measure. On the way back to Trenton they took turns finding songs on the radio, teasing each other good-naturedly about their song choices.

"I am _telling_ you," Gia said as they pulled into her driveway, "after Whitney sang the 'Star Spangled Banner' at the Superbowl, they should've just licensed the song to her and refused to let any other rendition to be sang, _ever_; it is _that_ flawless."

Lester was grinning at her tirade as he exited the car and grabbed her bag from the back; he was aware that he'd been grinning most of the ride back from Newark, and the thought made him grin even wider. _I may look like an idiot, but I'm the happiest idiot in the city, _he mused.

After ordering Giana to wait on the bench that sat on her porch, Lester did a quick walk-through to make sure her house was secure. Deeming it free of boogeymen and Vince, he carried her bag in and, sneaking a last kiss, promised to be back to retrieve her at 6 for their date. "What Steph would call 'dressy-casual'," he said when she asked how she should dress, and left her in her living room sporting a wide grin that mirrored his own.

* * *

Back at Rangeman, Les had a few hours to kill so he headed to the gym; the idea of sitting in his apartment, whittling away the last few hours before he could publicly stake his claim on Gia practically gave him shingles.

After warming up and running for forty-five minutes, Les hit the weight machines and started a leg circuit. He was getting a lot of curious glances and figured the reason behind them was the intermittent beaming smile that lit his face up. He was so distracted by his workout and thoughts of his date tonight that he didn't notice Bobby until he was almost on top of him. With a nod of solidarity, the two moved to position themselves near the rowing machine where Vince sat, pulling and pushing while huffing air out at precise intervals.

Lester did a few cool down stretches as Bobby warmed up and the two seemed content to ignore Vince for a few minutes before Bobby asked, "Hey Les, wanna spar?"

Lester looked at his partner and winked; he'd texted Bobby earlier about Vince running his mouth, trying to put Giana off of him, and Bobby had come through for him.

"Nah, can't; I've got a date tonight, I don't want a black eye." He answered casually.

"Really? You meet someone new?" Bobby's voice projected above the sound of the rowing machine, and Vince glanced up, suddenly interested in the conversation.

"Nah." Les stood and grabbed his towel, slinging it over his shoulder. He turned to leave and threw over his shoulder, "I've got a date with Giana." The satisfaction of hearing the _clang!_ and the whir of the rowing machine when Vince missed the next pull put a little extra spring in Les's step as he made his way to his apartment to shower and dress.

* * *

Lester pulled into Gia's driveway a few minutes shy of 6pm and sprang from the car, happily making his way to her front door. _Not a bad day to be Lester Santos, _he thought as he rang her bell.

After hearing her muffled, "_Come in!"_ he opened the door and assumed the Patient Boyfriend position on the armchair. He knew men who'd complained of waiting for their girlfriends or wives taking forever to dress and never being ready on time, but he felt oddly content as he sat and waited. He took a moment to glance at his clothes; light gray slacks paired with a dark gray button-down, sleeves folded and pushed artfully up around his forearms. He'd gone for simple and neutral, not wanting to look overdressed if she went more casual.

She didn't leave him waiting for long; after only a few minutes she entered the living room, apologizing for keeping him waiting. "…and I'm not good at matching shoes to outfits so I had to find the _specific heels_ my brother insisted 'went' with this…" The rest of what she said was lost on Lester as he stood and drank her in.

She'd erred on the side of caution, choosing a form-fitting mother-of-pearl dress that ended two inches above her knee in a flare. The neckline was a bateau with a pretty spattering of opaque black lace overlay that started at her left shoulder and extended over her left breast, ending just above her hip. The heels – _God, those heels_, he thought – were at least four inches high and peep toe. The material extended across her foot almost sporadically, leaving thatches of her skin exposed, mimicking the pattern of the lace overlay on her dress. She'd pinned part of her hair deftly behind her head and the rest flowed down her back in tight waves. She looked…

"Stunning." He murmured, not realizing he'd spoken out loud until he saw the pleased smile on Gia's face and the blush that spread over her cheeks. Shaking off his stupor, Lester walked with purpose toward her and stopped an indecent distance from her body. He took her hands in his and leaned in to kiss her cheek, lingering so he could whisper, "You're stunning; you look so beautiful in this."

She shivered at his hot breath so near her ear and stepped minutely closer to him, breathing in his scent. "You look great, Les, so handsome." She said, moving her hand to his waist and turning her head, silently urging him to kiss her. He happily obliged her for a full minute before pulling away and asking, "Dinner?"

They left the house and arrived at Rossini's just before their 6:30 reservation. As Lester steered her toward their table, his hand resting on the small of her back, he noticed the appreciative glances in her direction and felt, for the first time in memory, the sharp unpleasant stab of jealousy. With Michelle, he'd been careless and never noticed any wandering eyes, and the women after her…well, he hadn't cared what they'd done or who they did it with. "If this is karmic retribution, I'd rather get hit by a bus." He mumbled to himself while shooting glares left and right.

Once seated, they fell into the comfortable back-and-forth Lester had come to expect with her. Gia was laughing at a story Lester was telling about the time Bobby got his braids taken out and Les had managed to snap a picture of him with an Afro when their food arrived. A few bites in, she looked Les in the eyes and said, "Please don't turn right now, but there's a creeper behind you that keeps looking at my boobs. Look in a minute and tell me if you know him." while offering Lester a bit of her flounder.

"That's Dickie Orr." He said through gritted teeth after he'd glanced behind him a moment later. Dickie was eating dinner with a bottle blond who was struggling to reach around her fake breasts to reach her food.

Giana's eyes widened. "Stephanie's ex?" When Les nodded, she rolled her eyes and said, "What a twat."

Les's aggravation came to a screeching halt and he laughed at her assessment. "Did you just call Dickie Orr a twat? Oh, man, Steph will love that!"

The light mood continued throughout dinner, and after ordering a dessert to share, Lester pulled her onto the dance floor and into his chest. The power of this, having Giana pressed against him, swaying gently and looking utterly content, was a heady thing. He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled deeply, offering up a silent prayer of thanks for whatever he'd done to deserve this.

After a few songs they headed back to their table and shared dessert. As Les was paying the check, Giana asked where the restroom was so he escorted her to the back and excused himself to use the men's room.

It was uncharacteristically crowded and took Les a few minutes to make his way into a stall. His washing up done, he exited and went in search of his date. As me rounded the corner and went to step around the potted plant that obscured the lady's room entrance, he paused when he heard her voice.

"Giana." Said in a flat, bored tone.

"Giana – beautiful name for a beautiful girl." Came a man's slimy reply. Lester bristled; Dickie Orr had gone to wait for _his_ date outside the restroom to troll on her. He made a move to interrupt them before his old companion, Insecurity, waved 'hello'. A bit ashamed of himself, Lester decided to wait a moment to see how this played out.

"Have we met somewhere before? You look so familiar." Dickie, Lester noted with scorn, was using the most obvious lines to draw out a conversation with her.

"Yeah, we have. I'm the receptionist at the V.D. clinic." She deadpanned. "Listen, I'm here on a date, something I know you're aware of since you couldn't be bothered to hide the fact that you were checking me out all through dinner. I'm not interested, so why don't you run back to your home under the bridge and wait for the Three Billy Goats Gruff to pass over you."

Biting back a laugh, Les stepped into view just as a now red-faced Dickie was opening his mouth to retort. The look on Lester's face silenced him and he was forced to take two quick steps back when Les approached to take Gia's hand.

"Ready, gorgeous?" he purred, more for Dickie's benefit than Gia's. She rolled her eyes playfully and accepted his outstretched hand, turning and leaving Dickie fuming by the restrooms.

Once they were seated in the car, she asked casually, "How long were you standing there?"

Shamefacedly, Les hesitated before muttering, "Since he asked your name."

"You wanted to see what I'd do." She said, no hint of question in her voice.

"I wanted to…" he started to defend himself, then stopped short. "Yeah. I guess I did."

He silently cursed himself; it was their _first date_ and he was already showing his suspicious nature where women were concerned. He'd hoped this, of all things, would allow him a fresh start, and that Giana wouldn't be affected by the scars he carried.

So he was, naturally, surprised when she reached for his hand and brought it to her lap. "I can understand that." She said, her gaze fixed on their laced fingers. "I mean, I'm not a huge fan of it in the long-term, but I can understand how you would need some…reassurance with me. This is still new, for both of us, so let's just agree to work on trusting each other."

When they pulled into her driveway a moment later, Lester was humbled and more resolved than ever to put forth every effort to be the man she deserved. He knew, without questioning how, that ruining this with suspicion would have far-reaching effects on any chance of his future happiness.

Breathing through the impact her understanding had on him, he exited his car and jogged around to the passenger side. After helping her from his car and, again, instructing her to wait on her small porch while he cleared her house, he pulled her inside and tried to pour his gratitude for her earlier pardon into the kiss he gave her.

Pulling apart, breathless and flustered, Gia asked the question he'd been preparing himself for since he put his plan to make her, his, in motion.

"Do you want to stay awhile?"

Weaving his fingers through the delicate hair at the base of her skull, he rested his forehead on hers and sighed, "More than I want my next breath. But I'm going to take a rain check." He pulled back so she would see the sincerity radiating from his eyes and, chiding himself to _trust_ that she would respect his honesty, said, "I want – I _need_ – for this to go the distance. I'm going to do this right, so I want to wait until the _time_ is right. I'm going to regret leaving you later tonight," and here he shot her a wicked grin that had her flushing pink, "but when this happens, it's going to be perfect."

Nodding that she understood, she pressed one last firm kiss against his lips and said, "Then you'd better go. I'm not the gentleman you are."

Chuckling while bidding her a good night, Les made his way to his car and went home to sleep off what had been one of the best nights of his life.

_**A/n: All together now: "FINALLY!" (;**_

_**Giana and I share the same opinion on Whitney Houston's rendition of 'The Star Spangled Banner'. It's traditionally sung in 3:4 time, to allow for the singer to breathe between notes and not die from lack of oxygen; Whitney was so badass they rearranged it to be sung in 4:4 time so she could draw those bitches out even further. It's truly spectacular to listen to.**_


	23. One-shot

_**A/n: This is a quick 'between chapters chapter' in response to the PMs and reviews asking to see Giana in RedHeaded pissed off mode. My mom's sisters are both redheads and I'm here to Witness…the rumors are true. They're awesome gals 'til they're not, and then you'd better sleep with one eye open and change all of your computer passwords. **_

_**If you're planning to get offended by the words I use, please don't read. I could bore you with my credentials, but suffice to say the views of the drunk guy in this story are not my own. **_

_**Enjoy!**_

* * *

Gia and Les stood, wrapped around each other, while they murmured sweet nothings to each other, oblivious of the crowd at Shorty's. They'd gathered there with a few of the Merry Men for Steph's monthly Shorty's Night, along with Vaughn and Mark. Twice they'd been good-naturedly berated for their PDA, and twice they'd found their way back to one another. Vaughn, in particular, made noise about how gross it was to see his baby sister act like a tramp in public, but it was said with no real malice and he wore a smile to take the sting of his words; truly, it thrilled him. For the first time ever, they were both happily spoken for. He knew his sister loved Hector – hell, she'd perjured herself to keep him free and safe. He didn't know much about Lester yet, but the adoration he felt for Gia was obvious and that, for now, was enough.

They were about two hours into their evening of beer, pizza, and betting on poorly executed pool games when 'Code Red', as it came to be known, happened.

Giana was engaged in some giggly girl talk with Stephanie while Hector looked on, amused. Ranger and Les were trying to outdo each other at snooker, and Mark and Vaughn were taking turns taunting Lester when his turn was up. They were so boisterous they bordered on obnoxious, so of course all the Merry Men were egging them on. Just as the girls and Hector were coming to join the mêlée, Vaughn passed by them on his way to the restroom and pressed a brief, inconspicuous kiss to Hector's lips before continuing past them.

A man, average in height and below average in intelligence, just happened to be exiting the restroom when Vaughn was passing Hector. With a disgusted snort, the man muttered, "Fucking fags." while shooting a repulsed glare at the men.

Vaughn, surprised, could only stutter, "Excuse me?" in a low tone; surely he'd misunderstood.

The man, who they would later learn was called Earl (and isn't it always an Earl?) drew himself up to his unimpressive height before spitting, "I _said_, faggot. Isn't that what you wanted, some attention? You two perverts making out in public, you know you're drawing attention and you love it. It's sick."

By now, a couple of the Merry Men had clued in to what was going on and were surreptitiously watching the scene unfold, none being willing to step in and cut Vaughn off before he had a chance to defend himself. It was a right they would have afforded any man; there was pride and honor to be had in fighting your own battles, and none of them would rob him of it.

Their good intentions, however, were for naught because Giana spun slowly, eyes alarmingly wide, before saying, "What did you just say to my brother?"

"Oh, shit." Mark's whispered curse sounded off, almost like he was a little scared. Les spared him only a momentary glance; no way was he letting this guy pop off to his girlfriend, no matter how mad she might get at him later for it. Mark stood, wide eyed, not moving and apparently trying not to breathe too loudly, almost like he was trying to hide from a predator. Strange.

Hector made a move to stand between the girls and the man from the bathroom, whose malice only seemed to increase when Giana spoke. She gripped his wrist, stilling him, her eyes never leaving the man.

"I _said, _your brother here is a nasty sexual deviant and he needs to keep that shit where decent folks won't be tainted by it." He spit on the floor in front of Vaughn, who was standing in open-mouthed disbelief.

Giana's face was slowly changing color, from her natural peaches-and-cream complexion to a molten, blotchy red. With her teeth gritted, she ground out, "Listen up, you thin-dick closet case. I don't care what kind of sister-loving backwoods donkey-humping cult you worship at that tells you who is and isn't living the right way; if you **EVER **talk to **my brother** like that again, I'm going to beat your sorry ass." Her voice had grown increasingly louder, her stance rigid and unyielding. The madder she got, the thicker her faint accent grew until she sounded like she'd sprung straight from the hills of the South. By now, the game of snooker was abandoned and the Merry Men were watching the scene unfold, ready to step in. Behind them, Mark was whispering, over and over, "Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit…" while nervously twisting his hands together. When Bobby opened his mouth to interrupt the brewing tension, Mark flapped his hands at him and hissed, "Shhh! You're going to make it _**worse**_!"

The man from the bathroom, deciding being 'right' was more important than leaving the restaurant in one piece, looked straight into Gia's face and, inscrutably, barked out, "Faggot."

Less than ten seconds later, he lay retching and writhing on the ground, trying desperately to scrabble away from Giana as she proceeded to carry out her promise to beat his sorry ass. He sort of resembled a wounded dog that had been run over and chewed on a little; hair pulled straight out with a good-sized clump missing, a bruised and rapidly swollen eye, and a trickle of blood coming from the split in his lip. She was relentless, shoving off the hands of her friends as they tried (unconvincingly) to separate them. Just as she was raising her foot to stomp on his already broken hand again, Lester stepped around the mass of bodies and lifted her, by the waist, and walked her away from the man.

"I will set you on **fire** and beat the flames out with a baseball bat, you sonovabitch! Go on, call my brother another name! DO IT!" She continued to screech insults at him, even as Lester carried her out of the bar and rushed her toward the car, Vaughn and Hector close on his heels.

Safely secured, they took off out of the parking lot and whizzed through the alley, taking a roundabout way back home from Shorty's.

"Why the hell did you pull me off of him!?" She screeched. She was mad and spoiling for a fight, and in that instant, Les understood completely Mark's reaction to seeing her wind up at the man's taunting.

Choosing his words carefully, he said, "Baby, if someone eating there happened to call the cops, you can't be there when they arrive. The guys can say they didn't know who you were."

"I wasn't _done_!" she snapped, folding her arms and turning to glare out the window.

From the backseat came a snort. Lester's eyebrows shot toward his hairline; in all the time he'd known him, he had _never_ seen Hector smile, much less laugh. Now, Hec was clutching his stomach and shaking in silent laughter, his eyes screwed shut while his shoulders convulsed. Vaughn was chuckling, more at Hector's obvious glee than Gia's fight, but the mood lightened considerably.

"_Chica_, you were like _el gato montès_! Remind me not to offend you, I am too young to die." And that set him off again.

Risking a glance at Giana, Les was relieved to see her fighting a smile. He reached for her hand and raised it to his lips, not taking his eyes off the road, before kissing the back of her hand. "Alright?" he murmured, his face mirroring the concern he felt.

"I'd be better if he was peeing blood into a cath bag tomorrow, but I'll recover." she sniffed as they sped off into the night.

* * *

_***Hector called her a 'wildcat', and some of the fight dialog was witnessed by yours truly at a drag show. It was as epic as you're imagining. **_


	24. Chapter 24

_**A/n: I'm warning y'all now, lemons in this chapter. It's not my forte and there are several writers who are so good at writing steamy scenes (Mrs. Fraser) that it really just feels like, why bother? So while this chapter has some naughtiness, it won't be an ongoing thing in my story. And public thanks to my Beta; she was a great cheerleader when I was waffling about including the smut.**_

* * *

As Lester Santos sat in the surveillance vehicle and reflected on his life, he had to admit – it was pretty fucking sweet at the moment.

In addition to a small handful of official dates, he and Giana had seen each other almost every day for the past four weeks. When their schedules proved too difficult to coordinate, they'd grab small snippets of time together – she would bring lunch to Rangeman and spend it with him at his desk or in the break room, or he would meet her in the well-manicured lawn at the rehab center and they'd spend one precious half-hour talking and connecting while sitting close together on the grass.

Tonight, for example, he'd been called last minute to take a surveillance shift. When he phoned to tell her and ask for a rain-check on the movie they'd rented with no intention of actually watching, she had met him for a quick 15 minutes in her car. They had sat and held hands, perforating their conversation with frequent kisses, and he'd piled into the SUV with his fellow Rangemen, feeling happy to be _hers_ and unhappy to be leaving her. But after the fiasco with having hired Roy…well, suffice to say that Ranger's new vetting process was extremely thorough, and they were once again short-staffed.

Their budding relationship was on track to be truly great…and therein lay the problem. He'd put so much pressure on himself to make their first time together magical and memorable that now, it seemed an insurmountable task to get past, rather than a milestone to celebrate. So it was with these thoughts clouding his mind that Lester sat, silent and still, inside the SUV with Vince.

The two men hadn't spoken the entire night; come to think of it, they hadn't spoken much at work lately, either. Lester surmised it was sour grapes; even the most oblivious of men could've figured out that Vince was after Gia until she'd committed to Les. Because Vince was a Rangeman, Lester remained civil; because Vince lusted after the woman Les was increasingly certain that he loved, Lester let a silent loathing boil just under the surface, waiting for Vince to step out of line.

After an hour plus of Vince's brooding quiet, the passenger door was wrenched open and Stephanie stood in the space between the car and the sidewalk.

"Cal wants me to switch with you, Vince." She said.

Without a word, Vince grabbed his travel coffee mug and hopped from the car, skulking toward the other hidden SUV. After Steph climbed in, Lester gave her a side-eye glance and asked, "Was that true?"

Stephanie snorted. "Not even a little bit. Cal must've eaten a pound of red beans and broccoli for lunch, topped off with a slab of cheese; he's noxious and I had to escape. Besides, you know you're my favorite and I wanted to hang out with you."

Lester returned her snort and raised her an eye roll. "You wanted fresh air and fresh gossip, Beautiful."

She grinned and said, "You know me too well. Now spill; how are things? Are you guys crazy about each other? I know she brought you lunch a few times; it's so sweet it makes me want to puke. Tell me everything."

Lester wasn't able to stop the dopey, satisfied smile that appeared when he thought of her. The past month was like something otherworldly, some achingly beautiful sonnet come to life that he just so happened to get to live every moment he was in her presence.

"It's…perfect." He said. "It's better than perfect; there needs to be a word bigger than perfect so I can use it to describe her. I feel like everything is going better than I could've hoped, and I can't imagine it veering off this course."

Stephanie may not have a lot of academic letters to follow her name, but she was an acute student of humanity; she smelled the '…but' coming a mile away. When Lester didn't continue, she nudged him along. "And you're afraid of what, exactly?"

Lester shrugged and stared out the windshield, not willing to look Stephanie in the eye when he spoke again. "What happens if it does veer off course? It's so perfect right now, everything is perfect. She's…ah, geez, _she's_ perfect, Beautiful. How long do I have before she realizes I'm not?" The last sentence surprised him; he hadn't been consciously aware of having had it until he vomited all of his insecurities on his friend's lap.

"Ah, I see. You are worried that when the perfect 'new relationship' glow wears off, she's going to see how human you are and bail." When Lester only shrugged, Stephanie sighed and said, "Les, she's the first woman you've seriously dated in years, right?" When he only shot her a dirty look, she raised her hands in mock surrender and said, "Hey, I'm not belittling it, I'm just trying to get a frame of reference."

When he nodded grudgingly, she said, "May I offer you some advice?"

When he only shrugged again, she decided to give it to him straight. "As someone who consistently tried to self-sabotage my relationship with the man I was crazy in love with, I will tell you this – she's human. And as perfect as you think she is, there are bound to be things you find out about her that you won't be crazy about." When that didn't elicit a response, she tried a different tactic.

"Did you know that Ranger pees in the shower?"

Les let out a snort of laughter and glanced at her with an arched eyebrow; where the hell was this going?

She nodded while grimacing. "Yeah, he does. The first few weeks we were serious, right before we got married, we were spending all our time together. One day, we were showering together and he turned away from me and peed! In the shower! While I was in it! Totally didn't see anything wrong with it!" She lowered her voice in a poor imitation of Ranger's dulcet timbre and said, "'Babe, it's just you and me in here.' I was so skeeved; my perfect, sexy mocha man practically peed on me!"

When Lester's shoulders started shaking with repressed laughter, she gave him her best 'Burg glare and said, "It's not funny, it's gross! I'm all for trying new stuff in the bedroom, but I wasn't expecting a ninja-style golden shower." By now, Lester wasn't even trying to hide his laughter.

Stephanie, seizing the opportunity, placed her hand on his forearm and smiled wistfully, saying, "Now, knowing that he's mine and his little idiosyncratic tics are mine as well…it's intimate and it's something that only we two share. It's a weird thing to bond over, but when you let your guard down and really start to share _everything_…that's the good stuff, Les."

Lester hesitated only a moment before deciding he was already in it up to his neck. "There's…something else. We haven't, um, _been together_ yet."

It took Steph a moment to catch up, and when she did she openly gaped at him. "But…but, you're so…well, _hot_, and **she** makes me question my sexuality sometimes." It was Lester's turn to gape at her; she cringed and said, "Out loud?"

Regrouping, Stephanie asked, "Are you two, ah…compatible?" and recoiled while she waited for the answer.

Lester sighed and rubbed his hand over his short, blond-tipped spiked hair. "I haven't tried. I wanted to wait for it to be right; I wanted to show her that she was special enough to wait for. Now I feel like I've built it up to be this huge _thing_ and it's just a lot of pressure and I can't figure out how to approach the…situation."

Stephanie placed a hand over her heart and whispered, "Wow." When Les shot Steph her own favorite Italian hand gesture, she shook off her stupor and said, "That's seriously the most lovely thing I've heard a man say about a woman, Les. Hell, even my first time with Ranger was because I lost a bet. I just…I guess I can't believe there are men who still _do_ things like that."

Les sniped, "Oh, awesome, just what every guy wants – to be called 'lovely'. That's so hot." before huffing and slumping down in the driver's seat. Stephanie patted his arm sympathetically and said, "Be honest with her. Tell her how you're feeling and why you're putting it off." When he started to shake his head, she said, "Better she know the truth than think you don't want her."

"Oh, she knows I want her. I think I've had a visible erection 85% of the time for the past month."

Stephanie snorted and was about to prod him along when she spotted their skip. Motioning to Les, she called it in and within minutes, they had him cuffed and secured in the backseat of the SUV. Not wanting to continue their previous conversation in front of the skip, Stephanie resolved to keep her nose out of it…unless, of course, opportunity knocked.

* * *

Opportunity, as it turned out, was a loveless bitch. Two more meals (a hasty shared bearclaw and cup of coffee before his break was over and her shift began, and a more leisurely lunch at Pino's) and a movie night interrupted by a residential break-in when Les was on call were all the opportunity he got to spend time with Gia. If Ranger didn't loosen the reins on this hiring freeze soon, Les was going to seriously miss him after he was found beaten to death by his own shoes.

Thankfully, it was only a scant week after his surveillance shift with Stephanie that he found himself on the couch with Gia, dinner eaten and wine glass in hand. They were past the stage where flirty repartee was used to work up to kissing, and past the stage where tender kisses were used to pave the way to a passion-filled lusty make out session. As soon as she sat down next to him, Giana balance her wine glass on the coffee table and straddled Les.

The last coherent thought Les had for the next few minutes was '_yesssss!'_ before he was consumed by her, moving over him. Her taste and her body served to set every nerve in his body on fire, and he gripped her hips as though she might float away if held too carelessly.

Slowly, sensually, they explored each others mouths. Gia pulled back, severing their connection, but before Les could protest the loss her mouth covered a spot on his neck that left anything other than the ability to moan out of the question. With one hand gripping his shoulder for balance and the other buried in his hair, she continued to lick and nip his tender exposed neck. Reflexively, Les tightened his hold on her hips and held her in place while he ground his rapidly growing erection into the warm cleft between her thighs, searching for some relief.

Her moans joined his, the delicious friction causing her to throw her head back, eyes closed, as they rubbed and writhed against each other. Lester leaned forward and captured her nipple, erect and visible through her shirt, in his mouth before biting down gently. Her moan turned into a gasp, then a cry of "Oh! Please…" as he nibbled and kneaded her heavy bosom.

Abruptly, he swung her around and lay her down on the couch, settling himself over her, resting his body between her legs. Their passionate kisses and desperate touches were reaching a crescendo, the clothing they were wearing proving too great a barrier for them. Reaching between them, Les slipped his hands under her blouse and slid it deftly over her head, pausing a moment to gaze at the pale lavender lace that covered her breasts.

Gia's breath was coming in short, shallow bursts now, and she arched her back, urging him forward. "Please…" she moaned again.

"Baby, I think I like you begging me." Les whispered as he peeled one cup down to expose her creamy breast, topped with a perfect rose-colored nipple. Entranced, he murmured, "So beautiful," before taking the taut pink bud in his mouth.

Her cry of pleasure was accompanied by her thighs squeezing his hips, desperate for relief. If he hadn't been bordering on frantic for his own extrication, he could have spent a happy hour just drawing these sounds from her delicious mouth. As he raised his head, intent on exploring her other breast, they were interrupted by a cell phone ringing.

"Ignore it." He muttered as she raised her head. Returning to her exposed chest, he did indeed ignore his phone…up until it rang out and the caller immediately called back.

Refusing to be deterred, Lester continued his exploration of his very beautiful, very **naked** girlfriend, letting his cell ring out again. Immediately, Gia's cell started up and she finally stilled his head with her hands.

"You've got to get rid of them." She panted breathlessly, a fact that Lester noted with smug satisfaction. He snatched her phone up and snarled, "WHAT?!" into the receiver. After listening for only a moment, Les snapped "Send someone else." before hanging up on the caller. It started ringing before he could even toss the damn thing down, and he groaned. Ranger was dead. So dead. He made a mental note to send flowers and condolences to Stephanie before answering again.

After grunting a "Fuck you." to a now chuckling Tank, he settled back down next to Giana on the couch, face to face on the small space. She had straightened her bra after Les answered the phone the second time, and now lay gazing into his eyes while he pouted.

"Your cousin has impeccable timing." She teased, trying not to let her frustration show. They were finally – _finally_ – enjoying the sexual part of being a couple and they were, again, interrupted by work. She wasn't sure what was worse, the sexual frustration or the irritation of never getting an opportunity to spend the night together.

Lester shared her grim look for only a moment before his slow, sexy smile spread over his face. Leaning forward, he kissed her, hard, and pulled her leg over his hip before sliding his hands down her stomach toward the waistband of her shorts.

She gasped and stopped his hand. "We don't have time!" she whispered, her voice filled with longing.

He kissed her again before saying, "We don't have time to make love. When I take you, _finally_, I'm going to need a lot longer than the hour I've got. But what I do have is enough time to make sure at least one of us goes to bed happy."

Nudging her to roll back a bit, he again peeled the cup of her bra down and sucked her pert nipple into his mouth, eliciting another low moan from her. The hand that had slowed his decent a moment ago fisted in his hair and she squeezed her eyes shut, any objection abandoned. Lester again slid his hand down her svelte body, feeling the glow of possessiveness burst into flame. As he reached her pelvis, he paused for only a second – long enough to growl, "_Mine." _before sliding his long fingers fluidly under her waistband and along the seam of her panties, wringing another gasp and moan from her.

Slowly, torturously, his fingers breached her lace undergarment before sliding into her soaking folds; the next moan came from Les's mouth, muffled by Giana's breast. "So fucking _wet_." His voice, a primal rumble, only urged Gia on. Her hips began thrusting upward, so desperate for release that her staccato pants were now accompanied by soft, urgent cries of "please, please" and "oh, _Les_".

Just as he felt her body begin to coil, Lester raised his head and gave a command, his voice guttural and commanding. "Eyes."

Beyond rational thought, Giana obeyed him and opened her eyes. As soon as they met, her violet to his moss green, her voice rocketed past the quiet moans she'd been whimpering and with a loud, "LES!", she exploded.

* * *

After showering down the most painful case of blue balls in existence with freezing water, Les had kissed Gia soundly before striding from her porch to the RangeMan SUV parked in her drive. He slammed the door, glaring at the three waiting men, all of whom returned his animosity with mirth.

The ribbing continued as they headed north, toward the city, where a high-bond skip had been spotted. Bobby and Tank were having an especially merry time of it, while Ranger just let his almost-smile rest on his face and refused to take part in the teasing.

Finally, Les told them if they didn't knock it off, he'd tell Giana, who would likely tell Hector and, well, the ride was fairly peaceful after that.

With a resigned sigh, Les relaxed his shoulders and tilted his head back to rest on the seatback. Closing his eyes, he tried to block the images of Giana as she came on his hand from his mind; if he got a hard-on in a car full of guys, especially _these_ guys, he would never hear the end of it.


	25. Chapter 25

_**A/n: Over 10K views and 180 reviews…this is so awesome. I love this site and I love sharing this story, it's so fun to write; I appreciate, more than I can say, all the kind and encouraging things you all have had to say. **_

_**I killed my phone last weekend and it had 2 apps I used to make story notes, chapter outlines, funny things I thought of that I wanted to incorporate in my story…it's all been lost. The next chapter may be a week or so out, since I'm pouting too much over the loss to really dig in.**_

* * *

_Two days. Two unbelievably long, fruitless days. _As Les entered the elevator and pressed the button that would whisk him to his room on, ironically, the 7th floor of the Grand Hyatt, to a room he'd barely spent any time in, he was grousing and unhappy. The tip they'd gotten on the skip, while good, had been scant on some important information. For example, the snitch had neglected to share that their fugitive, one Martin English, had hired two dangerous men to guard his body at all times. They'd also neglected to inform him that he had become a mid-level dealer in the short time since he'd made bail for committing some high level white-collar crimes, so the playing field was not at all what RangeMan had expected. Still, they felt pretty confidant that they had a good window of opportunity to apprehend him tomorrow when he met their snitch for lunch.

It was a small consolation, however; Lester was in sexual limbo and had found himself having trouble focusing on the task at hand the past couple of days. His mind, his attention…hell, his _heart _was back in Trenton. Missing someone and feeling like you were incomplete without being in their presence was a new normal that Lester was actually enjoying acclimating to; being with Giana brought him a sense of peace he didn't realize had been absent from his life. The spiritual wholeness, the _love_ he felt when he thought of her made the ache in his chest that much harsher.

And now, here he was, wasting more time without here in a hotel room less than seventy miles from the woman he loved.

_Love. I really do love her,_ he thought to himself, a smile lighting his beautiful face as he exited the elevator and made his way to his suite. The realization had been a long time coming, ebbing in and out of his conscious thoughts for a number of weeks. And then one day, they'd met at Gia's house for lunch and she remembered that he preferred fresh tomatoes to sun dried. Such a small thing; she'd substituted plum tomatoes in her own recipe, just to please him, and had brushed off his thanks as though pleasing him were the most natural thing in the world. How she hadn't noticed the shift he felt after that small, seemingly banal act was something he puzzled over for almost a day; was he really so starved for affection and genuine thoughtfulness that he was mistaking gratitude for love? The answer had come to him in a wave of emotion that left no room for doubt; he loved her. He'd been working around to telling her ever since that afternoon, and he felt mildly disgusted with himself for his cowardice. He **needed** to get back home to her.

As he opened his hotel room door, reflecting that 'home' meant an almost entirely different thing now than it did before he met Giana, he paused. There was a small bag and a woman's jacket near the chair in the foyer of his suite that didn't belong to him, and a quick glance in the entryway closet confirmed that this _was _his room…shit. Housekeeping must have delivered the bag to the wrong room. He made his way cautiously into the room, hoping there wasn't some random tourist relaxing on his bed. He was beyond the realm of dealing with this right now.

He'd only just rounded the corner toward the bedroom when he saw her, through the open door. Giana sat, perched on the edge of the king-sized bed, in a black lacy corset and matching panties. Her legs were crossed, revealing what looked, to Lester's hungry eyes, a bare leg that went on for miles. She smiled, inviting and a little shy, drinking in Lester's predatorial stance. He made his way toward her, his natural gait morphing into that of a hunter, stalking its prey.

Once he reached her, he pulled her to her feet and gathered her in his arms so every possible inch of her body was pressed against his. Without speaking, he kissed her. Words would have been wasted, anyway; what Lester had to say couldn't be expressed by anything he could think to say to her….well, maybe one thing…

Breaking the seal of their mouths, Les touched his forehead to hers and gazed at her eyes, neither blinking, both full to bursting with words unspoken. He knew, as well as he knew his name, that he would cherish this woman in his arms until the day he died. All the earlier trepidation, the self-criticism born of years of rejection seemed a hazy memory now that she was staring back at him with all the love he felt for her, shining from her eyes.

"I love you, Giana." He said, so soft and heartbreakingly sweet. She squeezed her eyes shut, taking a precious moment to appreciate what he said. She knew Les, knew his heart and the uncertainty he sometimes felt when it came to letting her love him…because she did love him. How could she not love this perfectly imperfect man, as he stood baring himself and leaving his soul exposed at great personal risk, to tell her that he loved her the way she loved him? Drawing in a calming breath and praying her voice reflected the surety she felt, she opened her eyes and smiled at him before twining her fingers through his thick hair. Moving her lips a hairsbreadth from his, she answered his unasked question.

"I love you, too, Les. So much." There was no hesitation in his movements now, nothing but a satisfied glow and a low moan as he ravaged her mouth, her throat, her neck with his hungry lips. His movements were slow, calculated; they were designed to leave Gia balanced on the edge of a knife for as long as possible as he explored her body.

As he undressed her, slowly, languidly, taking his time to unwrap the gift she'd given him when she pledged her love for him, the quiet of the room was peppered with sighs and whispered declarations of love. And after a torturously long lovemaking session, when Lester finally sheathed himself in her heat and lay, still and trembling and cradled in the perfect cushion of her body, she kissed him again and again murmured her adoration of him. The shift he'd felt weeks before was a tiny tremble compared to the shuddering, explosive rattle he felt realign and right his broken heart and twisted soul. Lester's hold on her tightened and he returned her kiss, whispering, "My Giana." as he began moving against her.

* * *

Hours later, sated and content, they lay together in bed. So entwined with her that Les wasn't sure which arm and leg lumps were his, he only had the energy to sigh and burrow in closer. That was how he'd been the entire time they'd been holed up, Gia noted with satisfaction – utterly content.

Twisting his head so he could gaze at her face, he noticed she was already focused on his. His grin, usually reeking of confidence, was more shy and reserved than normal. "Hi," he murmured, pressing his lips to her bare shoulder.

A soft, "Hmmm," was her only answer as she returned his kiss.

"Not that I'm complaining, but what are you doing here? And how'd you get into my hotel room?" he asked, his fingertips skimming the alabaster skin of her arm. She shivered before smiling and replying, "Stephanie. She threw a fit when she found out that Ranger interrupted your day off to come here for an FTA, so she got the hotel info from him and called me." Here she kissed him soundly before continuing. "I also had some good news that I wanted to share." She untwined her legs from his, the loss of her body sparking a flash of melancholy in his chest. Shaking his head, he leaned forward to see what she was digging out of her purse. With a "Tah-dah!" and a flourish, she presented a stapled sheaf of papers to him.

"'Petition for Annulment of Marriage'," he read before glancing up at her. Her joy was obvious in her smile as she announced, "The DA dropped Hector from the investigation. He's officially no longer a suspect! He suggested we file this as soon as possible, and I agreed. I don't want anything standing in our way; not anymore."

Whispering his accedence, Lester reached for her and pulled her back onto the bed. The absence of her body from his, though new, was unacceptable right now (and, he suspected, would continue to be unacceptable a lot in the near future). Wrapping his arms around her, he drew her as close as possible, pressing her back into the mattress as he covered her body with his. Positioning himself so that he was, once again, hovering at her entrance, he whispered, "Eyes, Giana."

Only when she opened her eyes to lock gazes with him did he slip into her welcoming warmth. With twin sighs, they began the slow build toward their release.

* * *

"Les?" Gia asked, a couple of hours after she'd presented him with the annulment paperwork. They'd made love again, then dozed in the fading light. Ranger had texted Lester and told him they didn't need him for the takedown, after all, and to enjoy the suite for as long as he'd like.

Now he lay, boneless and limp while Gia trailed her fingernails gently over his back. Up and down, up and down, until Lester thought he'd sink right through the mattress to the floor. This was another reality of being with Giana; she was a nurturer, something Lester had gone so long without it had no longer figured into his life. Now…suffice to say, he'd been tempted on more than one occasion to fake a minor illness, just to receive Giana's attention.

"Hmm?" he answered, not lifting his head.

"Can I ask you something?"

_Oh, hell._ In his limited experience in dealing with women's emotions, these words only spelled 'trouble'.

"Hmm?" he asked again, a bit more cautiously. He knew he'd answer whatever she asked – already, denying her anything seemed a feat too high to conquer – so he prayed she wouldn't bring up anything that might ruin the mood.

Shyly, she asked, "Why do you ask to see my eyes? When we're, you know…"

"Doing the nasty?" he asked, grinning with the relief of having dodged that particular bullet.

Gia rolled her eyes and snorted. "So romantic." she muttered.

Rolling onto his side, he noted with some satisfaction the hungry look on her face when he exposed his body to her. _Baby, if you keep looking at me like that, we're going to save a LOT of money on laundry in the future._ He shrugged and said, "I like it. Your eyes are beautiful, and very expressive. I guess I know I can gauge what you're feeling when I can see your eyes, and when I'm about to make you come, I like to see it." Here he grinned wickedly at her blush, and was moving toward her again to sate his appetite when there was a knock at the door.

"Great timing," he grumbled, reaching for his basketball shorts and t-shirt. After ensuring that Gia was in the bathroom and not visible, Les eyed the peephole and let the uniformed bellhop in, dropping his wallet in the process. The tray he pushed was laden with covered dishes, and Lester bent to retrieve his wallet from the floor, he heard the boy gasp. Straightening, Les took a glance around and almost instantly started seething.

There stood Giana in shorts and a tank, her hair piled high into an artfully messy bun. Her smile only served to enhance her beauty, and the healthy glow of having been recently loved by Lester made her infinitely more appealing. The bellhop, oblivious to Lester's chagrin, returned her smile with a goofy grin of his own and said, "Good afternoon, miss. Hope you're hungry, this sure smells great." As she traded small talk with the boy, Lester felt his internal temperature ratchet up a notch; the kid was obviously smitten with her, and she stood there, continuing to encourage his gawping. Drawing himself up, Les shoved a ten into the kid's hand and ushered him out the door. Slamming it behind the bellhop, Lester whirled on Giana.

"What the hell was that?! Why'd you come out here, half dressed? Do you like the attention or something?"

Almost as soon as he opened his mouth, a panicky voice inside his head started chanting. _Abort! Abort!_, but the need to regain control of the situation overrode all good sense.

Giana stood, jaw slightly agape, as Les finished his tirade. He saw the flush of anger make her already beautiful skin glow almost luminescently before her mouth snapped shut. With a final glare, she spun around and slammed the door to the bedroom shut behind her.

_Fuck._

After giving her a few minutes – okay, so it was 30 seconds, but it was all he could take – Lester entered the bedroom to find it empty. The sound of the shower running told him what he was anxious to know; exactly how pissed was she? Nervous energy dictated his next few minutes, so he straightened the bedclothes and picked up the delectable lingerie he'd peeled off her body hours before, folding it and setting it on top of the dresser. He heard the water shut off and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting, his knee jiggling fast enough to ignite a small flame.

The door to the bathroom opened and Gia stepped out wearing a hotel robe. Ignoring Les, she swept through the bedroom and out the door, marching over to the foyer where she'd left her luggage. Lester trailed behind, wary and silent as she scooped the bag from the chair and spun around, sidestepping him and marching back toward the bedroom before slamming the door, again.

_Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck._ Lester fisted his hair, agitated and stumped. He knew, _knew_ he'd pissed her off with his comment, and he knew it was uncalled for. But Christ, he'd waited what felt like his whole life for this woman and not ten minutes after they left the bed they'd been cocooned in, some asshole was eye-fucking her in their hotel room! _That's all I need, some pencil dick making a move on her __**now**__, _he groused to himself. After all the time he'd spent pining over her, working to shore in his place in her life, and the very **day** she tells him she loves him, there's someone else vying for his spot.

Hearing the faint sound of the blowdryer, Les decided he needed reinforcements and snatched his cell up to squeeze in a call before Gia was finished. Stephanie was the obvious choice, but when his finger hovered over her name on his phone, he couldn't do it. He didn't want to disappoint another woman with his bullshit, and he was sure she'd be disappointed in his behavior, too. Resigning himself to his new, unfavorable position, he dialed the only other person he could think of that _might_ want to help dig him out of this hole. He scrolled through his contacts and dialed.

"Hello."

"Vaughn, hey. It's Lester." He was met with a beat of silence, then, "Hey, what's up? Aren't you with my sister? Everything alright?"

Les gritted his teeth and pulled his hair again, standing to pace the small space.

"She's fine. I just, ah…I fucked up with her, already, and I need some help figuring out how to get her not to leave." He rushed through the words, embarrassed but determined to fix what he'd already broken.

Vaughn's surprise was evident in his voice. "Oh. Um…want to tell me what happened?"

"Not really, but I think you're my best bet at convincing her to stay. So here goes." Lester ran through the story quickly, mindful of the noise coming from the en suite. When he was finished, Vaughn let out a low whistle and chuckled. "You sure put your foot in it, huh?"

Lester huffed, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, I get it, I'm an asshole. But how do I get her to _stay_?"

Again, Vaughn's surprise showed in his tone. "She said she was leaving?"

Lester stopped his pacing and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. His sigh was gusty and deep, belying the neutral tone he assumed. "No, but why wouldn't she? I basically accused her of flaunting herself around a stranger."

Vaughn was silent for a beat before speaking again. His tone was warm and comforting, his words spoken with care. "I don't know why you'd assume that, Les. Gia hasn't shared any personal information with me, but I will say this: you remind me a lot of Hector."

Lester's eyes widened in surprise; this wasn't where he expected this call to go.

Vaughn continued. "He had some insecurities when we got together; out of respect for him I won't say any more, but there were things we had to work through together. You need to work through this with her. Don't assume she's looking for an excuse to leave you; I know my sister, and she doesn't give up easily on _anything_. Try apologizing for overreacting and tell her where you're coming from. You can't make a go of this if you're already trying to spare each other's feelings, especially with my sister, she hates that shit. Transparency is the only way to have a strong relationship. I like you, I'd like to see you stick around." The last part was said with no small hint of amusement, so Les thanked him quickly and hung up. He turned to go back into the bedroom and wait for Gia to finish her hair, but stopped short when he saw her standing in the doorway, an unreadable expression on her face.

"Who was that?" she asked, frowning.

_Transparency. Apologize. Don't spare her feelings._

"Vaughn." Her face showed surprise, but she didn't speak so he continued. "I wanted some advice on how to dig myself out of this hole."

She considered that a moment, then asked, "Did he help?"

Instead of answering, Lester took her hand and led her to the couch, sitting next to her. He sighed and rubbed his scalp before speaking.

"I'm sorry. I overreacted , it was uncalled for and you didn't deserve my suspicion." He held his breath, trying to prepare himself for her rejection and readying himself to beg her for _one_ more shot.

She nodded, not looking at him, before picking up his hand. "Do you remember," she asked softly, "what I told you the night we had our first date, after you waited to see what I'd do when Dickie tried to pick me up?"

Les searched his memory and deflated even more. "You said we need to work on trusting each other." He felt ashamed; not only of his actions but that he couldn't be what she needed. He wasn't what she deserved.

Giana saw the emotions flashing across his face and scooted closer, sliding onto his lap. Lester's arms immediately went around her waist and he buried his face in her neck, holding desperately to the only thing he wanted.

"I think," she said gently, stroking his back slowly, "that our story is going to have lots of chapters. I don't think it's going to be simple, or always easy, and I think we're going to need to work at it…but I want to. I need this to work, Lester, because I love you. If you need reassurance, I can understand that and I can provide that, in whatever way you need me to. What I can't do is constantly defend myself, and I can't read your mind. You have to be honest about what you're feeling, when you're feeling it. I'm on your team, baby, and I want to support you the same way you want to support me." She cupped his face and raised his head so she could look into his eyes. "I _love_ you, Les. A lot. A bellhop isn't going to tempt me away from you." She smiled, intending for the last part to lighten the mood, but Lester only dropped his eyes and tried to burrow back into her body.

Giana leaned back, eyebrow raised expectantly. He could only shrug and mumble, ashamedly, "But what if someone else does?"

She felt, viscerally tasted, her heart fracture. Lester was a soldier, trained to power past and wade through every emotional grid. He had also been trained, first by his mother and then by his girlfriend, that his love wasn't always reciprocated and that he wasn't worth sticking around for.

"Impossible." She whispered past the lump in her throat. "You make me happy, every day. You are loyal and trustworthy and _so_ loveable…and I'm all those things, too. As much as you care for me? I care for you the same way. You have my word, it's only me and you from now on."

Lester took a moment to consider what she was saying; he was, he knew, greedy for her love. The years he'd gone, flitting from woman to woman, had drawn focus away from the burning need he felt, now, with her, to be loved. Now that Giana loved him, learning to navigate his feelings of jealousy would be a necessity, one he doubted he'd be particularly good at, but he would try. For her, he would try anything.

With a reluctant nod, he whispered, "I'm sorry. I'll try," and when she smiled and rewarded him with a kiss and a "_We'll_ try. Together.", he knew they would be all right.

_**I listened to John Hiatt's 'Have a Little Faith In Me' while I wrote this; it's beautiful, and if you're in the mood for a new love song, I'd recommend it **_


	26. Chapter 26

_**A/n: this is a bit of a time jump, around 4 months or so after the last chapter. I've adjusted the seasons accordingly, I'm only sharing now so there's no initial confusion.**_

* * *

"Whose idea was this?!" Bobby hissed, his arms clutched stiffly across his chest as he stood in the frosty winter sunshine. "Do you know how dangerous this is? We're all at risk for hypothermia, shock, frostbite, not to mention sudden submersion can potentially cause migraines and aortic arrhythmia – "

"If you don't quit bitching I'm going to drown you. I'm serious. I'm going to hold you under the water until you stop twitching, Brown. Now Cowboy Up and get your head in the game." Woody was looking forward to the day's activities and as such, had a low tolerance for complainers.

Lester had been enjoying Bobby's discomfort and was one of the few men privy to the fact that Bobby Brown was, without exception, a sun worshiper. He threw his head back and laughed, long and loud while clapping his best friend on the back. He'd been doing that a lot the past few months; he was a lover of life and laughter, always had been, but since he'd fallen in love, it was like the smile had taken up permanent residence on his handsome face.

Speaking of love…he scanned the faces of the people in his immediate vicinity, looking for the object of his affections. He spotted Gia fairly quickly (as he always did), standing next to Stephanie, her arm circling Hector's waist as the three stood together, huddled for warmth. December in Jersey was nothing to joke about, and today was no exception.

They were here for a good cause, however, so everyone was making the best of it. Ranger had requested that Stephanie look into a charity that Rangeman could donate to around the holidays, and after doing some research she'd chosen the Polar Bear Plunge. While it was voluntary, there wasn't a Rangeman who didn't deem the cause worthy enough to join and they were out today, en masse.

"How did Bomber come up with this charity? And why isn't she plunging?" Cal, one of the few ex-Navy Rangemen, was more than up for the day's events and in a chatty mood, a rarity for the man.

Lester's glee was evident in his huge grin and the way he clapped his hands, as though he couldn't wait to share. Pointing at Bobby's scowl, Lester said, "You can thank this guy for the venue. He decided that Beautiful needed to adhere to the 'no junk food' rule and cleaned out her TastyKake stash while she was at a client meeting. She knows Brown hates the cold weather so she found a charity guaran-damn-_teed_ to make him miserable."

Cal chuffed and returned the grin, shaking his head and muttering something about '_evil genius' _and '_using her powers for good instead of evil'_ while Les continued.

"And Stephanie is not participating because she's a TOTAL WUSS!" This was shouted in Steph's direction, and much to their amusement she flipped her favorite hand gesture toward them.

"I'd be careful, Les." Ranger made his presence known as he made his way around the men, handing out protein gels. "She ever finds out about the time we chased a skip through that circus, you'll find yourself volunteering as a carnie this time next year."

"I am NOT scared of clowns! I'm telling you, I'm pretty sure I saw that guy on 'America's Most Wanted', that's the only reason I ran from him!"

"Weak, dude. That show was cancelled in 2011, you didn't see shit." Tank's baritone called from a few yards away, to riotous laughter.

Just as he was about to retort, two arms circled his waist. Gia's feminine scent invaded his nose and her feminine softness pressed against his back.

"I'm with you, baby, clowns creep me _out_." She murmured, kissing the back of his shoulder.

As he always did when Giana was around, Lester took a second to revel in her – this woman was _his_, and no one else's. She loved _him_, looked to him for comfort and protection, and she came to him to satisfy all her needs. The rightness of this and the warmth he felt from it hadn't waned, not even fractionally, since the first time he felt it.

He reached around and pulled her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her and nuzzling her nose, ignoring the catcalls from his friends. "Hi," he cooed quietly, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. She returned his greeting and turned to the circle of Rangemen. "They're starting in less than 5 minutes, so you all should get into position."

"Why aren't you plunging, G?" Cal stood stretching in front of Bobby, enjoying the now permanent scowl on his medic's face.

"Can't. I just got over strep, I can't risk a relapse."

Bobby snapped his head around and glared at her. "I'm pretty certain it won't cause a relapse. You can probably still pay the entry fee after you jump, you know."

"All right, Misery Loves Company, back off." Stephanie waved her hand toward him. "She can't do it anyway because of female problems."

Bobby huffed in indignation, shaking his head. "No, nuh-uh, no way, you don't get to do that! I know your game, Manoso! You can't say 'female problems' to a group of men and just expect us to run for cover!"

"Speak for yourself, Brown. Honey, you just stay here and stay warm and keep any sensitive female information to yourself." Woody soothed before turning to walk to the waterfront.

"Kiss me for luck?" Les whispered, and Gia happily obliged. He shrugged his sweatshirt off and handed it to her while Ella and Stephanie collected shirts from the other Rangemen.

As he lined up with his Brothers in Arms, he stretched his neck around for one last glimpse of her. There she stood, watching him and smiling from the boardwalk, her nose red from cold. She was breathtaking, and she was _his_. He really didn't think he'd ever get used to the thrill that shot through his marrow when he reminded himself that Giana loved him the way he loved her. His answering grin was so wide he wondered, fleetingly, if it were possible to pull a muscle from smiling.

"What're you so happy about? It's colder than a brass toilet seat out here." Vince grumbled from his right. On his left stood Hector, a knowing smile ghosting over his face. They'd reached a comfortable camaraderie and in a weird way, Lester considered him an ally, if not a friend.

"Because that woman loves me." He answered, gesturing toward Giana with his head. "Anything else in this whole world is negligible, so long as I have that."

Turning and ignoring the black look Vince shot him and returning the nod of approval from Hector, Les readied himself as he watched the huge event clock count down.

_5….4….3….2….1_

As a unit, the Rangemen took off at a sprint. They'd discussed strategy as only military men can, ignoring Stephanie's amused chuffing, and had decided to go with the 'rip the bandaid off' method of plunging.

It worked, to a point; they ran in so fast that none of them felt the biting cold until they were thigh-deep in the freezing salt water, and then it was Bobby's voice that carried over the delighted shrieks of the other plungers.

"_Ahhhhhhhhh!" _he squealed, his hands fisted over his closed eyes. He tried to slow down so he could skulk out, undetected, but the second strategy meeting they'd had when Bobby was off for the day, and the one they'd kept secret from him, had prepared them for this. Ranger, Tank, and Hal grabbed onto his torso and lifted Bobby over their heads while Cal grabbed onto his ankles to keep his feet from flailing.

"ONE!" Tanks's voice boomed, rising above the surrounding noise.

"No! You assholes! You do it and I'll put every one of you on a macrobiotic diet for a _**month!**_" Bobby shrieked.

"TWO!" Ranger and Hal joined the chant, grinning like loons while the other men laughed at their antics.

"Macro is too good for you! You'll do the fucking grapefruit and cayenne pepper cleanse, fuckers! I'll make you do Pilates until you pop a vessel, do you hear me!?" Bobby's threats reeked of desperation, his voice growing increasingly panicked.

"**THREE!"** The entire fleet of Rangemen screamed together, and with that, the men holding Bobby Brown threw him as far out to sea as they could. As soon as he hit the water, they turned as one and lunged toward the shore, no one willing to be the first man Bobby was able to get his hands on.

Laughing and shoving each other playfully, they emerged on the beach to find Ella and Louis along with Steph and Gia, holding oversized towels out for them. Ranger wrapped Stephanie up with him and began whispering risqué things into her ear, if one were to judge by the depth of her blush, while the other men made their way to the preheated SUVs that waited for them.

Les took pity on Bobby and waited on the freezing beach, amidst the jovial charity participants, with Gia and an extra towel. As Bobby came storming out and zeroed in on Lester, Gia deftly stepped in with a smile and some glove warmers in addition to the towel and the promise of a steaming thermos of coffee in the waiting SUV. She turned and led him toward the parking lot, winking at Lester as she clucked and fussed around his cranky best friend, and Les smiled to himself. It was the Giana Effect. She made him happy, regardless of circumstance. Even now, with Bobby grumbling and cold, he tamped down his temper when she intervened.

As he trailed behind them toward the car, he had a moment of utter clarity. _I'm going to make that woman my wife some day._ The thought came unbidden, unexpected, and it gave Lester pause. On a crowded boardwalk in the freezing cold, wet and shivering, he unearthed the single most terrifying and the absolute most satisfying thought he'd had in his life. It wasn't like the thought hadn't flitted through his mind before, but it was always in the abstract; sort of a 'Life Goals To-Do' list. But the wanton need for her to be his, forever, in this moment, overpowered all cognition. _I want to marry that woman. __**Now.**_

Her voice was the only thing that could have reached him at that moment, and it was that that snapped him from his fugue.

"Les? Are you alright?" she called. He looked her over carefully; she looked absolutely fine, no sign of having felt the tectonic shift that just knocked his feet out from under him. _My wife._

Nodding, he hurried over to where she waited, dropping a kiss on her cheek to wipe the worry from her eyes.

"Fine, just really cold. Let's get back." He smiled to reassure her and ushered her toward the waiting SUV.

* * *

Back at Rangeman, Ella had an array of hot drinks and slow cookers full of steaming stew and chili waiting for the men in the breakroom. After filling their mugs and a generous-sized bowl of soup, Les and Bobby made their way to Lester's apartment with Giana in tow.

After propping them up in front of the TV with blankets and a heating pad for Bobby, she kissed Lester soundly and departed for work with a "Love you!".

The men ate in silence. Bobby's was born from pouting and plotting revenge, but Lester's was something else entirely. As he mulled over his revelation, he didn't notice when Bobby turned his attention to him.

"What gives, you morose motherfucker? I know you were in on the plan to dunk me, you're _so_ not off the hook."

Les regarded him for a moment before setting his bowl down and sucking in a fortifying breath. "I want to marry Giana. I think. I mean, I'm sure I want to marry her, I just think I want to do it now. Or soon, I don't know. It's kind of freaking me out, to be honest." Finished, he sat back to wait for Bobby's response.

Bobby blinked rapidly in surprise, and for a moment Lester regretted telling him anything. Despite his apprehension, he was sure that if anything less than complimentary about marrying Gia came out of Bobby's mouth, he'd be pissed. He bristled in anticipation and was rendered speechless when Bobby nodded and said, "Good for you, man."

After a beat, Les said, "You don't think it's…crazy? We've been together less than six months! It's too soon, right?"

Bobby shrugged and settled back into the couch, pulling his comforter tighter around him. "It's soon, sure, but you _love_ her. It's obvious to everyone, even without you two marshmallows spouting that shit off to each other all the time." Here he grinned to make sure Lester knew he was teasing, and continued. "Any idea how you're going to do it?" He picked up his bowl and continued eating, waiting for Lester to reply.

"I…I thought you'd… of _all_ people, YOU would try to talk me out of it," Lester sputtered.

Bobby quirked his eyebrow up at Lester. "Do you want me to talk you out of it?"

"No! I just…it's big. It's bigger than anything I've ever done, dude." Taking a deep breath, Lester got to the crux of the matter; "Loving her forever doesn't scare me, but asking her to love me forever is fucking terrifying."

Bobby sighed and said, "That's bullshit and you know it, Santos. She's been good to you, she's been good _for _you, for months now. You guys don't even fight, it's disgusting. You can't tell me she won't love you back."

When Lester's jaw tightened, Bobby's attitude turned from commiserating to angry.

"You know what, Santos, you're going to have to get past your ancient history or you're going to fuck this up. You think you're not…what, competent, capable, _deserving_ of being loved by a good woman?" Bobby threw the blanket off his lap so he could lean toward his friend before continuing. "You spend every minute you're not with her thinking of her. You put her first, all the time. You, _you_, Lester Santos, have been completely faithful in mind and body to Giana." He started ticking his fingers off with each pronouncement. "Half your shit is at her house because you spend so much time there. You took a cooking class with her so you could make Thanksgiving dinner for her mom together! **Just** to make her happy! And you're sitting here, telling your best friend you want to commit the rest of your life to this woman."

Spent, he flopped back down on the couch and reached for his comforter. "You've got to have a little faith in yourself, brother. And you need to tell her the shit about your mom – " here he pointed a stern finger at Lester, " – because I know you haven't yet. You can't leave it because if you start punishing her for old sins, you'll never forgive yourself. And I don't think you can live with that."

* * *

Two days later, Lester found himself in his new favorite position – in a post-sex haze, laying prostrate in bed with Gia tucked firmly against his side.

"I think it's going to snow." She murmured sleepily, using one hand to graze Lester's chest with her nails. Back and forth, back and forth, lulling him into a fog. When her hand stopped and she took a breath, Lester knew their little cocoon was about to vanish.

"I talked to mom yesterday, she wanted to know if we'd like to spend Christmas in Virginia. I told her I'd have to check your schedule." She paused and asked, "What are your normal holiday obligations?"

Les shrugged and rolled his neck, suddenly feeling a bit tense. "Nothing, really. I usually pick up some shifts so the guys with families can see them, go to Ric's parent's place for a bit as long as…" and here he trailed off.

"As long as what?" Gia asked benignly, unaware of the weight behind the answer.

"As long as my mother isn't going to show up." He finished tightly. When she didn't press him, he hurried on. "_Abuelo_ and Ric's grandmother were brother and sister, and _Tia _Rosa feels obligated to invite her every year." And oddly, even though he usually hated speaking about his mother, he felt lighter than he'd have believed possible after bringing her up.

"Oh." Giana didn't hide the surprise in her voice. "I just…assumed she was out of the picture, I guess."

Les snorted before saying, "She is. She's completely out of the picture."

Gia resumed her gentle scratching while Les waited with growing trepidation. _Maybe this wasn't such a great idea. _

"So you don't see her? Ever?" she asked gently. _Aaaand there it is._

"No. I don't." came his curt reply.

More silence, then, "What's her name? I don't think you've ever said it."

"Juana. My grandmother's mother was named June. She wanted to honor my father's heritage and named her after the woman who disowned her for marrying a Cuban immigrant." He answered with no small amount of bitterness.

After a few beats, she spoke softly, tilting her chin to stare at his face. "Do you ever think about reconciling with her? Maybe talk to her about everything?"

Les let out a dark, mirthless chuckle and sat up abruptly, flinging the blanket off of his legs and standing. He began searching for his underwear in the darkened room, his movements jerky and impatient.

"Baby?" her soft voice, full of concern, cut him. He knew he was being an asshole, but talking about Juana rendered him incapable of feeling anything but the old anger that welled up every time he thought of her.

"It's fine." He said, shortly, before striding out the door and heading for the kitchen. He opened the fridge and pulled out a beer, uncapping it and taking a deep swallow while staring out the window. Gia was right, it did look like snow.

In the glass's reflection he saw Gia approach him, a worried expression on her face. "Les, I'm sorry. You brought it up and I thought you wanted to talk about it, I didn't mean to pry."

She couldn't have known how incisive her apology was to him, how it burned his soul to know that she felt pity for him and remorse for hurting him over _Juana_, of all things. Turning, he met her eyes briefly before dropping them to her perfectly manicured toes. _Green, _she'd whispered to him just the day before, _to match your eyes, baby._

"_I'm _sorry. You have nothing to apologize for; I just don't want to talk about her with you. I don't want you…tainted, I guess, by memories of her. You're nothing like her, you'd never betray me, and I don't want to drag you into all of that."

Gia approached him gingerly, the way you would advance on a skittish cat. Reaching him, she slid her arms around his waist and laid her head against his heart. "I'm glad you know that I'd never do anything to make you feel sad, or hurt you. But I don't like that you're carrying around these feelings and keeping them to yourself; won't you tell me about it, just a little?"

Panicky, Lester responded reactively – he stepped away and from her and snapped back, "Why, so you can fix me?" He regretted it instantly and moved to hug her in apology, but Gia held up a hand, silencing him.

"No, Les, I don't want to 'fix you', because you're not broken. But I do want to _know_ you, and I want to know **all **of you, because I don't think you'll ever really believe I love you until I can love **all** of you. And I don't think you'll forgive yourself until you know I can forgive you."

"Forgive myself for what?" his reply was automatic, his mind still processing her declaration. _She really loves you, you prat. Now shape up._

"For believing you drove her away."

Lester sputtered, "That's…that's…." before stopping. He knew, of course, that he had a mind-fuck over Juana, but the anger had never left room for analysis. Was there any truth to what Giana was saying now?

_She loves me, totally and wholly. She only wants me to be happy, so maybe I should trust her and trust what she's telling me,_ he thought before taking a breath and holding it, and slowly exhaling.

"Want to go talk?" he murmured, reaching for her. She followed him, wordlessly, as he hesitated in the hall – bedroom or living room? The bedroom was where instinct directed him, because he wanted to sink into Gia's body and reassure himself that he wasn't that lost kid anymore, and that he was loved and always would be. Bobby's words echoed in his mind; _"you'll start punishing her for old sins and you'll never forgive yourself for it"_, and he steered them toward the living room.

He sat down and pulled Giana onto his lap and started his narrative, telling her all the ugly truths about his childhood – the neglect, both emotional and physical. The way, starting around age 4, he was left at home for two or three days at a time, with plenty of food and a good working knowledge of how the television remote controls operated and how to dial 911, and how he spent more time at his grandfather's than his own home. His attendance at school was, at best, spotty, but back in those days they mostly worried about abuse and not truancy so his situation went undetected.

"I remember being in maybe third grade and asking a classmate what color their room at their grandparent's house was, and how surprised I was that they lived with their parents full-time. It didn't occur to me that not everyone had a parent who spent their life avoiding their children."

After this realization, Les said, he became resentful of Juana's time spent away and the two fought whenever she was home, however sporadically. At age 11, she dropped him at his grandfather's for 'the weekend' and that was the last Lester or Mateo heard from her until just before Lester's sixteenth birthday.

"She showed up a month early with a gift. She forgot when my birthday was, showed up on the wrong day. Wrong month, actually." He smirked, no humor in his voice. "I told her that day that she was no mother to me, never had been, and that she should leave us alone and go back to her parties and her boyfriends. That was the last time I spoke to her. She didn't come to _abuelo's_ funeral a few years later." Here he paused and swallowed hard. "I don't think I can ever forgive her for that."

Hearing a sniffle pulled him out of his reverie and he peered at Giana's face for the first time since he started speaking. She had tears in her eyes, and tracks on her cheeks. The fact that she wept for him, for the boy he'd been, slayed him.

"Please don't cry. I didn't want to tell you because I knew it would make you sad. I never, ever want you to be sad, Sweets." He whispered against her lips while kissing away her tears.

Gia shook her head emphatically and said, "No, I'm grateful you told me. You can't keep things like that to yourself, Les. I know there are military related things you _can't_ share, and I won't ever put you in a bad position about that, but this is about _you._ You don't ever, **ever** have to deal with anything like that alone again."

Lester's arms tightened around her and he buried his nose into the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply. _This, _he thought, _is my forever._


	27. Chapter 27

_**To set the stage, it's New Year's Eve and the Elk's Lodge is the place to see and be seen in Trenton for the holiday party. All the usual suspects are in attendance…including Barnyard.**_

* * *

The champagne flowed freely and the DJ kept the crowd primed and engaged, pumping the volume on the more dance-worthy tunes and lowering it on the slow ones so the lovers in attendance could whisper sweet nothings to each other. The Elks, in a move that surprised most of the citizens of Trenton, paid a real, honest-to-goodness party planner from the city to decorate, so the usual slapdash décor was replaced by chic, tasteful ornamentation. The Elks reasoned that with all the city had been through the past summer, it was deserving of a **real** celebration. The atmosphere was definitely conducive to partying.

In a corner of the crowded hall, huddled in a group near the bar, were several Rangemen. For a few of them, it was the first they'd seen of each other since before the holidays and they were eager to rag on the few guys with steady girlfriends who had spent time catering to their women.

Binkie was a self-proclaimed happy old married man, though he had yet to actually _marry_ his long-time girlfriend, and he had no trouble taking the guys' ribbing. Junior, married three years, was rolling his eyes and flipping his friends off with regularity. The men knew better than to give Ranger grief, and since none of them wanted to start the New Year as a human pancake, Tank was also off-limits. That left Lester.

"Come on, Santos, let's go find Giana's purse and see if you can borrow your balls so you can take some shots with us." Bones had gotten a fair head start on the shots and didn't pull out any stops when it came to busting Lester's balls.

Les only snorted and shook his head while rolling his eyes, thinking to himself that Stephanie would have been proud of that Smartass Trifecta. "Laugh all you want, Chuckles – I spent 3 days with my hot girlfriend at her mom's place, who, by the way, is the coolest mom _ever_. I had a great Christmas, and if relinquishing controlling interest in my balls is the price, I'll happily pay it." And he cheekily flipped his friends off before walking away to raucous laughter, in search of his girlfriend.

He found her on the dance floor, dancing the _bachata _with Hector to some slow, sultry woman's voice crooning over the speakers. He'd been delighted to find that she had a good natural rhythm a few months before and had loved teaching her various Latin dances he remembered from childhood. His grandfather had attended every family event and, as he usually had Lester with him, dragged his grandson along to expose him to his cultural roots.

Lester's jealousy, while always present, was less of a problem these days. Giana had been true to her word, and whenever the green monster had reared its ugly head, she'd wasted no time in reassuring him through whatever means he needed. Smiling to himself, Lester recalled how most of those episodes had ended in the bedroom. Now, more than ever, he was sure of her commitment to him and of her unwavering support….and he was certain that he wanted to marry her.

Every time, every _single_ time he'd lost his cool and needed to be reeled in by Giana, she'd done so with patience and acceptance. He never felt judged, not even when he'd taken her desperately fast, his skin burning with its need to feel hers.

"Mine, Giana. Only mine." He'd hissed, thrusting furiously, pressing her against the wall of a supply closet after some asshole had come onto her while she tried on Halloween costumes with Stephanie this past fall. After she'd summarily dismissed the man, he'd yanked her into the nearest room with a lock on it, desperate for her. She'd nodded, pressing her lips to his and murmured her ascension. "All yours. Only yours. Always yours, baby," as he'd come inside her, clutching her thighs frantically and burying his face in her neck to muffle his cry.

Shaking himself from his reverie, he focused on her smiling face as Hector dipped her dramatically. He admired her from his perch a few yards away, her happy demeanor and beautiful smile, and for the millionth time thought, _I love that woman._

A nudge to the ribs broke his concentration, and Bobby sidled up alongside him with a dark green bottle. "Have a beer, you fucking Quaker." He baited his best friend effortlessly after their dozen years of friendship, and Les only grinned and threw back a muttered insult before taking the beer from Bobby.

Nodding toward Gia, he asked quietly, "You talk to Charlene?"

Lester pulled him back from the gathered crowd before answering, "Yeah. I almost puked, but I talked to her. She was great, hugged me and told me she was pulling for me." He grinned as he recounted the conversation with Giana's mom.

He'd followed her up to the attic after offering to help her locate the missing wise man for the nativity scene. As he'd stood, nervously cracking his knuckles and shifting his weight, he debated on how to broach the topic of wanting to marry her daughter with Charlene.

Her head had been buried in an old wardrobe when she'd called, "Out with it, Lester. You're as jumpy as a Protestant near Holy water." She'd stepped back and smiled at him to take any sting from her words and waited patiently while he'd hemmed and hawed, unsure of exactly what he should say.

Charlene had put him out of his misery when she'd laid a hand on his forearm and spoken. "As long as you didn't bring me up here to tell me that you've knocked up my unwed daughter, you and I are going to be fine. Now, are you here to tell me you'd like to marry my Giana?"

Stunned into silence, Lester could only nod. Charlene's answering smile was wistful and she'd said, "You love her, I can see that. But love isn't always enough; you're going to have to work at being friends, no matter what argument or fight you've had. And always remember this: he who has nothing to hide, hides nothing. Let each other into every part of your lives and you'll do fine." And then she'd pulled him into the kind of hug only a mother can give, leaving a small part of him aching for more, before she'd smiled at him and ushered him back downstairs.

Bobby clapped his back and tilted his bottle toward Lester, saying, "A toast, to the end of an era – I'm going to have to find another wingman for the ladies to fawn over!" as they clinked bottles and drank to Bobby's pursuit of Lester's replacement.

Just then, a manicured hand settled on Lester's chest and a nasally voice purred, "Aw, come on, you can't tell me you're done playing the field yet, handsome." Joyce Barnhart slithered between the men, effectively pressing herself against both of them at the same time. "You know, I never did get to sample the goods… maybe you keep me in mind when you decide you need a little _variety_?" She flicked a glance at Bobby, smirking at what she obviously assumed was a moment of triumph. Joyce turned back to a clearly irritated Lester before licking her lips sensually and leaning forward to whisper in his ear.

Just as Lester's hand settled on her shoulder to push her away, he felt Joyce's body yanked away from his chest.

Giana stood with her feet apart, fists on her hips, and glared at Joyce. "Keep your forked tongue away from my boyfriend, Barnyard." Her voice was eerily calm and she exuded an aura of pure pissed-off female, enough so that anyone dancing in a ten-foot radius was now covertly watching the confrontation.

Joyce took in her competitor's stance, the menace clear on Giana's face, and decided that she'd like to live to poach another day. "Yeah, sure." She chirped before flouncing off in search of her next victim.

Gia looked pointedly at Lester, who withered under her glare and started sweating. Before he could open his mouth to explain what had been happening, Stephanie piped up. "Don't blame Lester; Joyce is like the world's worst herpes flare-up. She never goes away and she pops up at the worst time." Lula had followed her friends over to watch the melee and nodded sagely before adding, "I had a previous, uh, industry peer who had herpes, and to be honest, I'd take them over having to deal with Joyce any day."

_I'm totally buying Beautiful some flowers, _Lester thought, grateful for the rescue. Seemingly placated, Gia just nodded and placed a perfunctory kiss on his cheek before turning to go lick her wounds at the bar.

Again, Stephanie interjected, "That's the kiss you want Joyce to see you leave him with? You sure about that?" Giana hesitated before again leaning in and laying a kiss so tawdry, so heated on Lester that Lula whooped and said, "Girl, slow it down! I think I just got pregnant watching you two!"

Giana broke their kiss and leaned back, staring into Lester's eyes meaningfully. "Mine." She said, stabbing her finger into his chest pointedly. Rendered speechless by her kiss, he could only nod dumbly before she turned and made her way to the bar, Lula and Stephanie trailing behind with matching grins.

_A greenhouse. Steph totally deserves an entire greenhouse full of flowers, _he thought dumbly. Bobby's grin rivaled Stephanie's, and only grew wider as Tank and Ranger slid into place beside him. "Any particular reason you just set the bar so high for me later tonight?" Ranger asked, flashing a smile so bright that the women passing by with drinks dropped them on the floor, blushing wildly.

"That was a woman marking her territory. Sheee-it, Santos, I hope you're hydrated cuz that woman ain't just letting this go. You're in for it tonight." Tank's usually stoic personality had been abandoned tonight, helped mightily by Jack Daniels, and his joviality caused the men to snicker and clink bottles in gleeful acknowledgment.

* * *

At the bar, Lula wasted no time in ordering three shots of tequila and beer chasers.

After passing them out and doing their best not to choke on the booze, Lula slammed her empty shot glass on the bar and announced, "It just ain't fair. You two won the sexy Cuban badass lottery and I'm here with old whatsisface." She gestured at her date for the evening, currently loading his plate with appetizers for the third time and balancing a dessert plate on his massive forearm.

Stephanie slid onto the barstool next to Lula. "I thought you liked Devon?" she asked woozily; she'd never won in a 'Stephanie vs. Tequila' showdown before, and tonight was shaping up to be another defeat.

Lula rolled her eyes. "It's _Darren_, and no I don't like him! He's not that great in the boudoir department, his feet smell like dirty Cheetos, and he is _dumb_. The man did not know his middle name, I shit you not. He had to pull out his _driver's license to check_. How dumb you got to be that you don't know your own name?! Even a dumb dog comes when you call it. Nah, I'm not crazy about ole' Devon."

"I thought you said his name was Darren?" Giana snorted out between giggles.

Lula waved a dismissive hand. "I guess. Anyway, I couldn't come to a New Year's party solo. That's just sad. I _was _hoping to trade up tonight, but it's not looking so good."

Stephanie squinted her eyes across the room to locate her husband, noting that he was standing with Tank. "What about Tank? Are you guys over, for sure?"

Lula huffed out an exaggerated, "Huh." and rolled her eyes before saying, "Girl, Tankie only has room for one girl in his life and her name is Miss Kitty. He ain't about to put those cats out for _nobody_, so I'm off Tank. For now." She amended when Stephanie quirked one eyebrow at her.

"How 'bout you and Batman? Everything looks…cozy." Lula grinned at her friend slyly, hoping the tequila had loosened Stephanie's resolve to keep her personal business, personal. When Steph only grinned drunkenly and shook her head, Lula rolled her eyes and turned to Giana expectantly.

"Fine, then. You. Spill." She demanded. Before Gia could sputter an excuse, Connie bustled up. "Did you hear?!" she hissed, swinging her ample bosom around to wedge into the space between the stools so she could whisper covertly.

"Jeanne Ellen just showed up."

Her words penetrated Stephanie's booze-soaked conscious and she sat bolt upright. "What?!" She shrieked, then shrank down when she realized she was drawing stares, then lowered her voice. "What?!" she hissed.

"Who's Jeanne Ellen?" Giana asked, her eyebrows reaching toward her hairline.

Lula turned and gave Gia a pointed look. "Jeanne Ellen is Catwoman."

Giana understood the implication immediately and said. "Got it. Come on, Manoso, we've got to get you in battle gear." while tugging Stephanie toward the restroom.

Ten minutes later, Stephanie was back. Her bra, a solid 34B, had been exchanged for Giana's 32C and the excess space crammed with almost an entire roll of toilet paper; Victoria's Secret was missing an entire market by only offering a Miracle Bra. The cleavage she was sporting now was more like a Hallelujah, My Boob Prayers Have Been Answered Bra.

Her makeup had been touched up, her hair sprayed higher, and Connie had manipulated her dress so that the waist was cinched up to reveal another inch of thigh. As Lula instructed Stephanie on the art of a casual show of dominance and Connie tried to interject her own advice, Lula smarted back, "Hush! I'm the brains of this operation, and you're the boobs. And I'm trying to school my white girl here in how to put that old-ass Barbarella wannabe in her place!" In short, Stephanie Manoso had her claws out.

As the women made their way back out to the crowded room, they kept a keen eye out for the approaching enemy.

Connie spotted her first. "Sonovabitch, she works fast!" she murmured as she nodded her head toward Jeanne Ellen.

Jeanne had shown up in full Catwoman gear. She was dressed in a skintight leather dress, red instead of her usual black. Her hair was tousled and her lips bore the culmination of no less than three expensive lip stains and/or glosses. Most infuriating was her stance; casually draped across the table to showcase her cleavage, eyes trained on Ranger's face as he made low pitched conversation with her.

Stephanie, a cup size bigger and feeling a foot taller than when she'd departed, slunk up to Ranger and pressed her breasts against his arm, kissing his earlobe chastely.

_Step One, Lula had said, was establishing existing physical intimacy._

Ranger turned to his wife, one eyebrow raised in a perfect arch. "Okay there, Babe?" he asked, dropping his eyes to her now ample cleavage.

"Perfect, Carlos, just perfect." She purred, flashing a smirk in Jeanne Ellen's direction.

_Step Two, according to Lula – drop the street name everyone calls him. Ranger is the badass security expert. Carlos is the man she married._

Jeanne's eyes widened fractionally before she forced a pinched smile onto her face. "Stephanie Plum, it's been awhile." She gritted out, regaining her composure and arching her impossibly long neck, fluttering her eyelashes and glancing at Ranger. He wore a smirk, no doubt having caught onto what his wife was up to.

_Step Three, go in for the kill._

"Now, Jeanne Ellen, you know I changed it to Manoso when I got married; Carlos insisted. He's a bit of a caveman that way, always needing to have me marked in some fashion." Here she winked at Jeanne before continuing, "Why, I had the darndest time finding a dress for tonight that covered the majority of his 'marks'." And she trilled the fakest, bitchiest laugh she could muster before turning to Ranger. "Carlos, would you mind if we cut out early? I'd like to get home and enjoy ringing in the New Year in _our_ bedroom."

Without so much as a nod farewell, Ranger scooped his wife up and made his hasty retreat toward the exit. Lula whooped and beamed as Jeanne Ellen beat a hasty, sour-faced retreat, and the trio made their way back to the dance floor.

* * *

As the clock ticked down, Lester moved around the crowded room in search of his errant girlfriend. She'd done a fair job at diplomatically avoiding him since his run-in with Joyce and he was determined to start their first year together off on the right foot.

He finally cornered her as she was exiting the ladies' room. She met his eyes and smiled tightly, her shoulders stiff as she moved to step around him.

"Stop! Listen, I get that maybe it didn't look like it, but I was in the process of getting rid of Joyce when you walked up. I swear, baby, I was like, the victim! And anyway," he said crossly, "I can't believe you'd just automatically think the worst of me. Have I given you any reason, _ever_, to think I'd ever be 'that guy'?"

Gia sighed drunkenly and hung her head; Lester was right, and she'd known all along that he wasn't flirting with Joyce. Still, it begged the question…

"Why me?" she whispered, avoiding his intense gaze.

"Why you….what?" Lester's confusion was apparent, and if she wasn't so distraught she'd have kissed the worry off of his beautiful face.

She shrugged, embarrassed, before blurting, "You've been with a lot of women, Les, women who are probably sexier and prettier and…and…just, better than me. I just…I wonder sometimes how long I'll be enough for you before you miss all of that, the being with different women all time and the ego stroking and – "

She was interrupted as Lester crushed her to his chest and kissed the words off of her lips. It was a soul-rending, love-affirming kiss and it took her breath away.

Pulling back, Lester rested his forehead against Giana's as she struggled to steady her breath. Opening his eyes, now inches from her closed ones, he whispered "Eyes, Giana," and when she parted her lids, he was taken aback at the sorrow in them. He choked out in a guttural voice, "All of that, Gia, was killing time. I waited for you, for _this_, my whole life. I just didn't know it, and I'm glad I was oblivious…because if I'd known you were out there, I'd never have rested or had a moment's peace until I'd found you, and what a miserable life that would've been. I'm here, tonight, with you, because I want you more than I want air to breath. I love you, I love you, I love you, forever."

As the clock ticked down and the party-goers at the Elks counted down to midnight, Lester began his New Year exactly where he wanted to end and begin each year for the rest of his life – wrapped in Giana's arms.


End file.
